


you’re my sunshine (on a rainy day)

by themetgayla



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Ficlets, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Smut, au prompts, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:06:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 92
Words: 138,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetgayla/pseuds/themetgayla
Summary: “the rain falls for you the same way i do:unapologetically, over and over.”a collection of bechloe (and sometimes side staubrey) ficlets and oneshots using prompts from tumblr.





	1. flowers & donuts

**Author's Note:**

> i’m posting yet another thing because i literally live in a trash can. these are most likely pieces of shit but bear with me, okay?
> 
> these are all ficlets/oneshots, mostly using au prompts from tumblr, so creds to whoever they’re from.
> 
> enjoy i guess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #1:  
> “i’m a famous music producer and you’re my new assistant who’s really shy but always buys me flowers and coffee and leaves cute messages for me. i want to talk to you properly but you always excuse yourself” au

Beca rushes through the doors of BM Records; she’s officially running late. She glosses over the fact that she’s nearly always late, and focuses instead on not tripping over her own feet as she’s so prone to doing.

A black americano is being pushed into her hand before she has a chance to look round. When she finally does — _definitely_ after taking a large gulp of the coffee — she finds her own navy eyes connecting with startling blue ones.

Her breath is knocked out of her for a couple of seconds before she offers the girl a smile. “Chloe, right?” She asks, scanning her eyes over a kind, pretty face and gorgeous ginger curls.

The girl nods, her silky curls bouncing softly as she does so. Beca can’t quite grasp how gorgeous Chloe actually is, so she just offers her another smile before quickly rushing to her office.

Beca tries not to think of Chloe’s adorable smile and gorgeous figure as she replies to her emails, but she can’t get the girl out of her mind. She decides to do some mixing, needing to lose herself in her music.

* * *

Chloe pauses outside Beca’s office, watching fondly as the brunette bobs her head to the music, the headphones practically swallowing her head.

She needs to alert the producer of a meeting she has in half an hour, but Beca looks so engrossed in her music that Chloe doesn’t want to disturb her. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she’s a nervous wreck around Beca.

She shudders as she thinks back to her disaster of an interview, and wonders why she was even chosen. Nevertheless, she’s here now, and she _really_ needs to gather the courage to talk to Beca, otherwise it’s going to be her fault the producer misses a meeting.

Knocking on the door is definitely not going to work, but the prospect of touching Beca is making her anxious. Chloe swallows thickly and approaches the producer, trying not to think about how her hands are becoming clammy.

Nervously, she taps Beca’s shoulder firmly, hoping the woman will feel it and turn round. Luckily, she does. The brunette pauses the music and slips her headphones down to her neck, swivelling round in her chair as she does so.

“Yes?” Beca stares at Chloe expectantly, admiring her electric eyes and smooth skin as she does so.

The redhead realises she actually has to speak, and proceeds to stutter out what she has to say. “Uh, Miss Mitchell, I um, just wanted to let you know that, uh, that you have a meeting in about h-half an hour.” Her voice is shaking terribly and she really hopes Beca doesn’t notice, but it’s clear from the soft smile on her face that she does.

“You can call me Beca, Chloe,” the brunette says gently, placing a hand on the smooth skin of Chloe’s wrist. The girl jumps a little at the contact, and Beca retracts her hand quickly. “Thanks for letting me know.”

She rises from her desk and quickly leaves her office, a little worried that she’s upset Chloe. She only touched her wrist; she hadn’t meant to frighten her.

Chloe stares after Beca, her wrist still tingling from the contact.

* * *

Chloe wants to do something nice for Beca; she doesn’t know why. She suspects it’s got something to do with the raging crush she now has on the producer, but she tells herself it’s because she wants to be a good assistant.

So, during her lunch break, she takes a trip to the local florist and picks up a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She can’t help herself, so she buys a box of donuts from the bakery too.

Chloe ignores that fact she’s just spent $30 on a woman she barely knows.

When she arrives back, she puts the flowers and donuts on Beca’s desk, and even considers writing a little note. It would be weird not to, right?

With shaking hands, she writes a little note for Beca, and places it on the donut box. Then, with one last glance at the producer’s desk she rushes to her own and begins filling out paperwork. She definitely wants to be out of the way when Beca returns from her meeting.

* * *

Beca trudges into her office, yawning tiredly. The meeting had dragged on for way longer than necessary, and she’d practically fallen asleep.

She stops in her tracks when she sees a large bouquet on her desk, along with a box of donuts. The sight alone brings a smile to her face, and she wonders who they’re from.

She ignores the little whisper at the back of her brain, willing it to be Chloe.

Picking up the note taped to the donuts, she scans it, eyes lighting up as she does so.

_Beca,_

_I hope you like the flowers and donuts! I hope you’re having a great day, and your meeting wasn’t too boring! Enjoy!_

_Chloe :) xoxoxox_

Beca tries not to think about the kisses after Chloe’s name, and the cute heart doodles on the paper, and instead thinks about how adorable it is for Chloe to do such a thing.

The brunette looks out of her office at the redhead’s desk, finding the woman studiously typing away at her computer. Determined to thank her, she marches out to talk to her.

“Chloe,” she says, approaching her assistants desk. “I just wanted to thank you for the flowers and donuts.” Beca smiles gently at the girl, who blushes furiously.

“Uh, that’s okay,” she says, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “I, um, have to go get something from, uh, the printer.” And with that, Chloe stands from her desk and rushes off, her cheeks warm and her palms sweaty.

Beca stares after her, wondering what she’s done to make Chloe so nervous.

She’s determined to find out. 


	2. she knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #2:  
> imagine you can take pain away from your soulmate. but don’t imagine one being afraid of pain, and the other person shouldering it for them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: (possible) character death

“It hurts, Bec, it really hurts,” Chloe whimpers, her whole body shaking as she lies on the ground, her side bleeding.

“Hold on Chlo, it’s gonna be okay,” Beca soothes, hoping Chloe doesn’t notice the tremble in her voice.

“Can we go home?” The redhead grits her teeth in pain, trying to keep herself from crying out, trying to hide the fact she’s terrified.

“We have to wait here a little longer.” Beca strokes Chloe’s hair soothingly, placing kisses to the girl’s pale forehead occasionally.

“I’m afraid, Bec. Pain scares me,” she confesses, staring up at her girlfriend with those wide blue eyes Beca’s so fond of.

In a split second, Beca makes a decision. Chloe’s scared, and the brunette can’t stand the wide-eyed fear painted on the redhead’s usually cheerful face.

“Chlo, the pain will be over in a minute, okay sweetie?” Beca catches sight of the intricate symbol printed on her skin, and rubs a thumb over it.

This is for Chloe.

“Becs, what do you—?”

And then the pain is gone.

Beca cries out, hands shooting to her side in surprise. She falls back onto the ground, tears leaking from her eyes as she clenches her jaw.

Chloe pushes herself up, ignoring the blood pouring from the wound, and turns to where her girlfriend is lying next to her, face pale and sweaty.

“Becs, what did you do?” The redhead brushes hair from Beca’s eyes and stares at her with worried eyes, frantically searching the pained face below her.

“Took away your pain,” Beca mutters, groaning softly as her side throbs. “You don’t deserve it.”

Chloe’s crying now, kissing the brunette tenderly as she lies there, oblivious to the gaping wound in her side. She doesn’t even care about it now. Her girlfriend took away her pain and that’s more than she could have ever asked for.

The sirens of the ambulance draw closer, and Beca can feel the pain intensifying. “You’re dying,” she whispers to Chloe, squeezing her hand desperately.

“No, no, I’m fine,” the redhead insists, looking down at the red patch staining her clothes. Beca shakes her head.

“I can... feel,” she mumbles, her eyelashes fluttering. Chloe clutches the brunette to her chest, rocking her back and forth.

Paramedics approach them, pulling Chloe away from Beca, onto a stretcher. Chloe screams, tells them she has to stay with Beca, tells them they have to take care of her. She screams and yells until they sedate her, her world fading to black.

Beca watches Chloe as she’s hauled onto her own stretcher, eyelids fluttering closed, wishing she could bury her nose in soft red curls.

She knows Chloe is dying. She can feel it in her chest. She knows, yet she can’t do anything.


	3. spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #3:  
> “this is totally awkward considering the only interactions we’ve ever had before this have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there’s a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbour type please help me” au

Beca knocks frantically on her neighbour’s door, trying to control the slight tremble of her hands as she does so. All she wants to do is have a fucking bath, but she can’t because there’s a huge fucking spider in her bath tub and she’s absolutely _terrified_.

She taps her foot impatiently as she waits, shuddering at the thought of the spider crawling around in her bath. Finally, she hears movement behind the door and she allows herself to breathe a fraction more easily.

“Yes?” Chloe’s in pink and blue pyjamas when she opens the door, her gorgeous curls tied up in a messy bun. Beca’s never actually spoken to her neighbour; the only communication they’ve had are the nods of acknowledgment in the halls when they pass each other.

But Chloe’s an actual ray of sunshine.

Beca knows this because the redhead has a lot of friends round and the laughter can always be heard through the thin walls of their apartment building. It’s with this information in mind that Beca tells Chloe the reason for her frantic knocking.

“Spider,” she breathes. So it turns out she can’t really form a sentence anymore; the slither of smooth stomach Beca can see is extremely distracting, but she blames her lack of speech on her fear of the spider.

“There’s a spider?” Chloe asks, furrowing her brow in confusion. She wraps her arms around her stomach, hiding the skin Beca’s eyes had been drawn to from sight. The brunette cracks her knuckles and nods emphatically.

“In my bath tub,” Beca elaborates. “I just went in to have a bath and then...” she trails off, the thought of the spider once again sending shivers down her spine.

“So what do you want me to do?” Chloe’s trying not to blush at the thought of Beca Mitchell naked, in a bath tub.

“Can you come and take it away? Please? I’m terrified,” Beca begs, fear shining brightly in her eyes. The redhead, of course, says yes, and is taken next door to capture the spider.

“Beca it’s tiny!” Chloe picks it up in one hand and pushes it into the brunette’s face. Beca screams and backs away, covering her hands with her eyes.

“It’s huge!”

“Sure it is.” Chloe chucks it out of the window and turns back to Beca. “If you ever need saving again, just let me know,” she says with a wink.

“Uh, I will.”


	4. everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #4:  
> “i’ve been travelling a lot and somehow you’re in every single city i go to seriously what the fuck who even are you how are you doing this” au

The first time Beca sees her is in LA.

She’s late to work, so she’s speed-walking down the street, necessary coffee in hand. As she rounds the bend, she smacks into a soft, warm body, and her coffee is suddenly splattered all down her brand new blouse.

The woman’s hands shoot to her cheeks, her ocean eyes filling with panic and embarrassment as she gapes at Beca.

“I am _so_ sorry,” she breathes, nervously tucking a curled strand of red hair behind her ear. She’s anxiously gnawing on her lip, waiting for a response.

“It’s fine,” Beca huffs, ignoring the burning of hot coffee on her chest. She’s now going to be even later to work, which fucking sucks, but the worries woman in front of her is absolutely gorgeous, so she thinks that may make up for it.

“I can’t believe I just did that. Please let me get you a new shirt,” the redhead begs, fingers nervously playing with the hem of her blouse.

“I’m late for work,” Beca says dumbly. She’s drowning in the woman’s eyes, falling deeper and deeper and she knows she probably looks extremely creepy but she can’t help but stare in awe at smooth skin and twinkling blue eyes.

“My apartment is really close. Come on, I’ll lend you something of mine.” The woman grabs Beca’s hand like she’s known her for years, and drags her down the street. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“I’m Beca.”

* * *

The second time Beca sees Chloe is in New York, just a week later.

Beca flew over to meet up with another producer friend to talk about hooking her up with some top clients. The meeting was yesterday and it went brilliantly, so today Beca is taking the time to do some shopping and sightseeing before flying back to LA tomorrow.

She’s coming out of Hollister (the body sprays smell good, okay?), when she smacks into one gorgeous Chloe Beale.

The redhead beams at Beca, a faint blush coating her cheeks. “Beca! Fancy seeing you here!” Beca’s rendered momentarily speechless because what a fucking coincidence.

(She doesn’t even believe in coincidences.)

“Uh, hi Chlo.” The nickname slips out purely by accident, but Beca blushes furiously when she realises what she said. Chloe just grins, her electric blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“See you around Becs.”

And with that, Chloe Beale is gone.

* * *

The third time Beca sees Chloe Beale is in Atlanta, a month later.

She’s there on music business. When she smacks into Chloe as she’s getting off the subway, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised.

“Chloe?”

“Beca, hey!” Chloe wraps her in a tight hug, clearly disregarding every single rule on personal space ever created.

“What are you doing here? This is the third time I’ve seen you in two months.” Beca definitely does not believe in coincidences, and this shit is getting weird. How is Chloe Beale exactly where she is, at exactly the right time?

“I’m visiting family,” Chloe explains. “What about you?”

“Business.” Beca doesn’t offer any more information, hoping she’d get away with staying silent. But no, the sparkling redhead wants to know more. Of course she does.

“Ooh what business?” Chloe is practically vibrating with happiness, and it’s almost starting to scare Beca a little bit.

“Music.”

“I _love_ music!”

They end up talking for two hours that day over coffee.

* * *

The fourth time Beca sees Chloe Beale is in Washington, just four days later.

Beca sees the familiar flash of red hair as she’s walking through the crowd of people on the sidewalk, and before she knows what she’s doing, she’s following Chloe.

She ends up in some alley, and she’s now extremely confused. Chloe disappears into a door in the side of a building, and something in Beca slumps.

She doesn’t want to admit that she kind of wanted to talk to the bubbly woman.

But she can’t help but wonder; _who the fuck is Chloe Beale?_

* * *

The fifth time Beca sees Chloe Beale is in Spain, two weeks later.

She came for a short holiday, needing a break from her busy life in LA. She’s relaxing on the beach, reading a brilliant crime novel when she sees a familiar face out of the corner of her eye.

Her jaw drops. How the fuck is Chloe in Spain? At the same time she is? No, this is not a coincidence.

Beca rises from her sun bed, determined to find out what’s really going on. Is the woman stalking her? Perhaps. Beca doesn’t know. But she wants to.

She approaches where she’d seen Chloe a moment before, sitting on a sand dune, book in hand.

But when she reaches the spot, Chloe Beale is nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was kinda weird i don’t even have an explanation for it myself.


	5. seven minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #5:  
> “we’ve been nothing but friends for our whole lives but then we played seven minutes in heaven and now i think i might actually be in love with you” au

“No, absolutely not.”

“Please, Beca.”

“Nope.”

“Becs,” Chloe wines, eyes widening, bottom lip jutting out. Beca clenches her jaw and shakes her head firmly.

“No.”

“But Becs...”

“Chloe! Stop pouting at me it doesn’t work.” The Bellas have voted for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, and Beca is absolutely _not_ playing. Not when the possibility of spending time with Chloe is there. She knows she won’t be able to handle seven tense minutes in a room with her best friend.

“It does though.” Chloe smirks knowingly, furthering her puppy-dog expression. An adorable innocence falls over her face, and she bats her eyelashes sweetly.

“No it doesn’t!” Beca huffs, crossing her arms. She looks away from her friend’s face, her resolve slowly cracking. “Chloe, I’m serious.”

“You’re making me sad, Bec.” Beca tries not to imagine Chloe’s eyes welling up with tears. When she glances back at the redhead, she sees glistening eyes and a forlorn expression on the girl’s face.

“Ugh. I hate you.”

“No you don’t. You love me.” And all of a sudden Chloe grins, her pearly white teeth twinkling in the light. She knows she’s broken Beca’s resolve. It works every time.

“No I don’t,” the brunette insists. Just because she may or may not be considering giving in to Chloe, it does not mean she loves her. Totally in a platonic way. Or whatever.

“Yes you do. Come on, let’s go.” Chloe grabs Beca’s hand, intertwining their fingers as she begins to pull the tiny girl towards the living room.

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Chloe’s squeal can be heard throughout the house, followed by the sound of Beca slapping the redhead’s arm.

The Bellas smirk knowingly.

* * *

“Beca,” Chloe says, waving her hands in front of the brunette’s face. Beca’s studiously staring at her nails, refusing to meet her best friend’s gaze. “Rebeca Mitchell.”

Her head snaps up.

“Don’t call me that,” she hisses, rising abruptly from her cross-legged position on the floor. “Let’s her this over with then.” Beca marches off towards the pantry with no further words.

Chloe exchanges a nervous look with the Bellas. “D’you think she’s angry?” She never wanted to upset the feisty brunette, only share seven minutes with her. Alone.

“Nah. She’s just nervous,” Stacie assures her, giving her a friendly pat on the thigh. “Go get her Red.”

“Good luck,” the Bellas call in unison as Chloe follows Beca towards the room all set up for the game.

* * *

“It’s pretty fucking romantic in here, huh?” Beca’s stood with her back against the wall, fiddling with the hem of her tank top.

Scented candles are dotted around on the shelves, and it unnerves Beca more than she’d like. There are two chairs in the middle, and a blanket spread out on the floor.

Suddenly the air is a little too thick, and she feels like she can’t breathe.

“Becs, just relax. We don’t have to do anything,” Chloe assures, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

“I know, but—“ Beca doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but she wants to kiss Chloe. She wants to shove her up against the wall and do naughty things to her.

“But what, Bec?” Chloe’s staring at her innocently, eyes blinking slowly, and Beca thinks, knows, that she’s never looked more beautiful.

The candlelight illuminates her hair, surrounding it in a soft angelic glow. Her ocean eyes sparkle and glimmer, drawing her in with every look. Beca‘s walking towards Chloe before she knows her feet are moving.

“Becs?”

Beca suddenly straddles Chloe’s lap, pushing her body into the redhead’s. Chloe sighs contentedly, looking at Beca with a soft smile on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Chloe whispers, stroking Beca’s cheekbone tenderly. The brunette nods, not even waiting for Chloe to make the first move before pressing her thin lips firmly against full pink ones.

The kisses are slow and soft at the start, exploring each other’s mouths, tongues slipping between lips. Beca lets out an involuntary moan as Chloe’s mouth trails to her jawline, pressing wet, heated kisses to pale skin.

And then there’s a loud knocking on the door, and their time is up.

Beca pulls away from Chloe in a flash, rising and stumbling backwards off her lap.

“Time’s up!” Fat Amy shouts.

“Okay,” Chloe calls back, standing up. She looks at Beca, who’s staring blankly ahead, eyes wide. “Becs?”

“Mhmm?” The noise is quiet and squeaky, like the brunette doesn’t have full control of her voice just yet.

“Was that... Do you regret it?” Chloe’s nervous to ask, but she knows it has to be done. She has to know if it was deliberate, or if it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. She desperately wants it to be the former.

“I don’t regret it,” Beca says softly. “I think... I think I’m in love with you,” she confesses, frowning slightly.

Chloe just grins, glad the brunette has finally figured out what she’s known for two years.


	6. wrong number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6:  
> “it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au

Chloe glances behind her for the fourth time, highly aware of the three men that are quickly gaining on her. She had a late shift at the corner store and it’s now 11:30PM and it’s pitch black and she’s walking home alone.

She catches sight of a phone booth up ahead, and she speeds up, calling her best friend Aubrey at the forefront of her mind. Twisting her head round once more, she sees just how close the men are.

Ducking into the booth, Chloe grabs the phone and punches in Aubrey’s number with shaking hands. She taps her foot as it rings, her heart hammering in her chest as the men draw nearer and nearer.

As soon as she hears the click of the phone being picked up, she begins talking, the words tumbling from her mouth. “Aubrey, oh my god you have to come and get me! I’m being followed by these men oh my god please I’m so scared and it’s cold and dark. I don’t know what to do and they’re nearly outside oh my god please—“ Chloe can’t help the panic in her tone, her palms growing clammy. The phone slips in her hands as she feels fear swell inside her.

“Um, excuse me? I think you, uh, called the wrong number,” a voice interrupts. It’s soft and smooth and a little gravelly and frankly quite beautiful, but Chloe doesn’t have time to think about that right now.

All she can think is _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_ because she called the wrong fucking person. Now she’s on the phone to some random woman who probably just wants to sleep.

“Oh my god I’m _so_ sorry, um, I’m just kinda freaking out right now. Sorry for bothering you, I just— _oh shit_ , um,” Chloe rambles, pressing herself into the wall of the phone booth as the men stop outside it.

“Hey dude, breathe. Where are you? I’ll come and pick you up.” Chloe hears movement on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of keys jangling.

“Really? Gosh, you don’t have to, I can just call my—“

“Where are you?” The voice probes gently, and Chloe’s too scared to resist any longer. She just wants to leave.

“Um, Snow Avenue. You know by the corner shop?” Chloe’s anxiously tapping her foot on the ground, counting the beats in an attempt to calm her racing heart.

“Oh yeah, I live super close. I’ll be there in two minutes tops. Hang tight.”

Chloe suddenly realises that the woman might hang up, and her heart rate spikes once more. “Um, please don’t go,” the redhead mumbles. It comes out as more of a question than a plea.

A breathy chuckle comes from the other end. “I wasn’t planning on it. I’m almost there. How about you tell me your name?”

“Chloe. Chloe Beale.”

“I’m Beca Mitchell,” comes the reply. Chloe finds Beca’s voice somewhat soothing, and she’s able to get her breathing under control even though the men are still outside, staring at her.

“It suits your voice,” Chloe finds herself saying, and it’s totally worth the soft giggle she gets in response.

“You’re in the phone box, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m in the car that’s just pulled up. Are you okay to come to me? Or shall I come to you?” Beca’s voice is still calm and controlled and it’s doing wonders for Chloe’s nerves. She’s never met anyone able to calm her this quickly apart from Aubrey, but they’ve been friends since they were two years old.

Chloe hesitates. “Um... I can—“

“I’ll come to you.” Beca seems to have read her mind, and she sighs in relief, sagging against the side of the booth.

Suddenly she sees a figure get out of a car across the road and walk towards her and the men. Chloe hangs up the phone since Beca is now in her line of sight, and watches as the tiny woman approaches the men.

“Oi, back off,” she says to them, glaring fiercely.

“What are you gonna do bitch?“ One man asks, leering at her. Beca doesn’t flinch, simply stands her ground and glares at them.

“I’m a black belt in karate,” she says as she smiles, displaying her pearly teeth.

“I bet,” the man says disbelievingly. Beca’s hand shoots out, punching him straight in the gut, and he doubles over in pain. “Shit,” he mutters.

“ _Leave_.” The word is harsh, cutting through the sudden silence hanging in the air. The group of men scramble, wandering off into the night.

Beca turns and walks to the phone booth, pulling the door open to see a relieved looking Chloe Beale.

“I take it you’re Chloe,” the brunette asks. At Chloe’s nod, she offers a smile. The redhead feels a sudden surge of gratitude, so she lunges forwards and sweeps Beca into a tight hug.

“Dude!” Beca exclaims in shock, standing motionless for a minute before awkwardly patting Chloe on the back.

“You’re awful at hugs,” Chloe states with a pout as she pulls back. Beca frowns at the way the redhead seems saddened by this, and suddenly she wishes she was better at hugging.

“I’ve never been much of a hugger,” she says by way of explanation. It’s true. “So, do you have somewhere I can take you, or do you want to come sleep at mine?”

Chloe weighs her options. She could go back to her cold lonely apartment and fall asleep in her cold bed. Or she could lie and go back to a probably warm apartment with Beca who’s tiny and adorable and makes her feel all sorts of fuzzy things.

“Would you mind if, uh, I stayed with you?” Chloe is nervous to ask, but is instantly reassured by the kind smile Beca shoots her.

“Of course.”

So Chloe may or may not have a crush on a woman called Beca Mitchell she knows literally nothing about.

But that’s okay.

Because she just knows that they’re going to become fast friends, and hopefully something more.


	7. problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #7:  
> “i called the wrong number and started talking about my life and you only interrupted me after a few a few minutes of me revealing some pretty personal stuff and now youre invested in my life troubles” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: discussion of suicide

As soon as Beca marches from the doors of Residual Heat, she pulls out her phone and angrily taps in Stacie’s number, the urge to rant almost physically painful.

The sun is too fucking bright and it’s warm and she hates it because the world around her seems happy and she’s _not_ and in all honesty she just wants to jump off a bridge.

Her phone rings, and after what feels like an eternity, the line is picked up. She doesn’t wait for Stacie to speak before she launches straight into her rant.

“Stace, I can’t do it anymore. I _can’t_. I quit my fucking job because I’m not being taken seriously. All they do is fuck around in there and I’m pissed off. Nothing is going right for me anymore. My love life is nonexistent because I’m a fucking emotionless bitch that no one even cares about. Even my parents don’t, didn’t, whatever. I have absolutely no friends apart from you and even you’re married and have kids. I can’t do it. I don’t want to. This whole life thing isn’t working for me. I want out. There’s a bridge literally five minutes away.” When Beca finishes her rant, she takes a deep breath because that alone exhausted her.

She wants to either jump off a bridge or sleep.

A hesitant voice that is most certainly not Stacie, speaks up. “Um, I think you may have called the wrong number,” she says gently, the words timid, like a bandaid being peeled off with care.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Beca mutters. “I literally just told you all my problems, I’m sorry you had to listen to that.” The brunette digs her nails into her palms because she’s so stupid and is totally embarrassed at what just happened. She just told a random stranger that she wants to jump off a bridge. _Great_.

“No no, it’s, um, it’s okay. My day was pretty uneventful until your call, so...” the woman trails off, seemingly unsure of what to say. Beca can feel the curiosity vibrating off her in waves, even through the phone.

“Well, uh, I’ll just hang up and leave you be. I’m sorry for dumping that on your shoulders. Don’t like, worry about me or anything. I mean, not that you would because I’m a piece of trash and literally no one gives a shit about me. But hey, I’m totally fine. Just peachy.” Beca’s rambling now, worried that she may have possible upset the woman on the other end of the phone, worried that she’s made the woman worried about her. Which she never intended to do.

There’s a beat of silence, which Beca assumes is her cue to hang up, so she pulls the phone from her ear, ready to press the button. It’s as she’s about to do so that she hears a hurried “wait!” on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah?” Beca’s nearly at her car now, ready to get in and decide whether she’s driving home or to the bridge. She probably wouldn’t jump. She doesn’t have the guts to. She’s too scared. She hates that she’s too scared. Maybe that fear will push her that extra centimetre and over the edge. Maybe.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. For ranting, I mean. Uh, your life sounds pretty shit right now. But um, I don’t think you should drive to the bridge. You don’t deserve that. You-You should try. To carry on, that is. Life doesn’t always, uh, have an obvious purpose but you’ll find it. And I’m pretty sure you’re like, super sweet under all those walls anyway. You should give someone a chance. If you want to.

“I’m not great at this stuff, but, um, well you can always talk to me if you want to? I know I’m only a random stranger but sometimes it’s easier to talk to people you don’t know. I think. It was just a suggestion, anyway.” The woman falls quiet, clearly awaiting a response to her nervously spoken words.

Beca pulls open her car door and slides inside, her breathing shallow. The woman’s words echo around her head, refusing to shut up. _You don’t deserve that. You should try._ Normally when people say those words to her, she gets angry because it doesn’t just work out like that. It’s messy and takes fucking forever and life isn’t just solved with a snap of your fingers because you want it to be.

But hearing the words from the mysterious woman is different. The words are calming and ignite a small spark of hope in her stomach. It’s flickering and barely there, but it’s more than what’s been there in the past few months.

Beca thinks she does deserve the end she’s been mulling over. She knows she shouldn’t but she has nothing left to live for. She’s only twenty five and has her whole damn life ahead of her, but the future is shrouded in mist, hidden from view.

In her mind there’s a bridge, an island and a city. She’s on the island, surrounded by a sea of nothingness, cold and alone. Then there’s a bridge that leads off the island to a grand new city on the other side. That grand city is locked up, scary iron gates preventing her from entering, the whole place hidden under a thick blanket of fog.

Her only options are to sit on the island, alone and depressed, or jump off the bridge.

The bridge always comes out as the better option.

“What’s your name?” Beca asks suddenly, her mind spiralling deeper and deeper into the depths of depression. She needs to smile. She hasn’t in what feels like weeks and she just needs to or she might cry.

“Chloe. Chloe Beale,” the woman says. She takes the change of conversation in her stride, and luckily manages to get out a sentence without stuttering. “What’s yours?” The sentence is only short but it doesn’t sound awkward and that’s something.

“Beca Mitchell.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Beca,” Chloe says, a smile lacing her tone. The sheer brightness in her voice makes a smile tug at Beca’s lips, dragging them out of their permanent frown.

It’s shocking, how quickly it happens.

And she smiled at what? The tone of someone’s voice? She shakes her head in bewilderment.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.” And Beca actually means it. Chloe Beale sounds like sunshine and happiness and it lifts the brunette’s mood ever so slightly. It’s not much but it’s something, it’s the biggest change in her mood since last month.

“So, what’s your favourite colour?”

The question is so random and so _Chloe Beale_ (or what Beca imagines her to be) that the brunette can’t help but let out the tiniest of chuckles.

“Black, yours?”

“ _Black?!_ Black isn’t even a colour! Mine’s yellow.”

“Of course it is,” Beca mutters, because _of course_ Chloe Beale’s favourite colour is the same as sunshine and happiness.


	8. sweeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #8:  
> “it’s my turn to open up the cafe today and you were sleeping under one of the tables when i came in and i don’t know what to say so i’m just sweeping awkwardly around you” au

 

Chloe steps into the cafe, shivering at the slight chill in the air. She pulls her coat tightly around her body, a white puff escaping her mouth every time she breathes.

She flicks the heating on as soon as she dumps her bag on the counter, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to generate some heat. The redhead peels her coat off once she feels the air warm up, and grabs her apron off the hook. After throwing her soft curls into a bun and tying her green apron round her waist, she heads to the store cupboard to get the broom.

Plugging her earphones in, Chloe selects her morning playlist, and begins to sweep, humming and dancing along as she does so.

When she reaches the back of the cafe, she’s met with a sight that causes her to pause her music and yank her earphones out. She stares, brows furrowed at the image before her.

There’s a woman, a tiny woman, curled up under the table, wrapped in a thick coat. She looks uncomfortable, her head awkwardly resting on the booth seat above her, arms tucked inside her coat. Her face is scrunched into a tight frown, and her hand twitches every so often.

Chloe cocks her head to the side, unsure what do to. She knows she shouldn’t just leave the woman there, certainly not when the shop is open, but it’s not right now. So is it okay to just let her sleep? Probably not.

The redhead is too awkward to wake her up, so she just picks up her broom and continues to sweep awkwardly around the small brunette.

* * *

It’s as she’s finishing that she turns round and catches the woman trying to leave she cafe unnoticed. Her hood is pulled up, hiding her hair, and the coat falls down to her knees, seemingly swallowing her whole.

“Excuse me?” Chloe calls, because she’s curious and she can’t help herself. She’s always been a curious person, wanting know whatever she can.

The woman turns, her eyes wide, a shot of panic flashing through them. She backs towards the door, reaching behind her for the door handle. She fumbles around with it, finally gripping it tightly in her hand.

“Wait, please,” Chloe calls once more. “Don’t run away,” she says softly. The woman still looks like a deer in headlights, her knuckles white from squeezing the handle.

“I’m sorry. I just... I was kicked out, and um, I had nowhere to go. I snuck in last night and no one noticed me and I was tired and I just fell asleep. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll just, um...” the tiny brunette trails off, chewing her lip anxiously. She looks like she’s desperate to run, desperate to escape the awkward conversation.

“No, wait. What’s your name?” Chloe smiles brightly, her ocean eyes sparkling as she regards the woman. She’s beautiful, hidden under the giant coat. Sharply angled cheekbones, eyes ringed with now-smudged eyeliner, spikes stuck in her ears. Beautiful in a scary kind of way. Well, it would be scary if the woman wasn’t such a stuttering mess.

“Beca.”

“Um, if you want you can stay at my place till you have somewhere to go? I know I don’t even know you but I don’t want you to be homeless or whatever.” Chloe’s a little nervous to offer, but the smile that stretches across Beca’s lips tells her it was a good idea.

“Uh, you sure?”

“Totes!” Chloe’s beaming smile is back, blinding Beca with the beauty and light held in that one expression.

“Thank you. That would be, uh, really great.” Beca smiles, a small smile, and Chloe feels her insides flop.

She may not know Beca yet, but she will.


	9. noodles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #9:  
> “you found me in a mall crying over a bowl of noodles i dropped and i swear to god im not usually like this im just having a really weird week” au

Chloe’s minding her own business, shopping bags clutched tightly in hand, smile stretched across her lips as she goes from shop to shop, browsing and purchasing here and there.

She’s just come out of Forever 21 (they have the _cutest_ floral dresses _ever_ ) and is on her way to to grab a coffee (alone), when she stumbles — literally — across a crying woman.

The woman is sat in the middle of the mall, right where Chloe was trying to walk, tears running down her cheeks. A pot noodle is knocked over in front of her, the watery mess spilled all over the floor.

Now Chloe Beale, real life ray of sunshine, is not one to just leave tiny crying women in malls. Not that she’s ever been in a situation like this before. But everyone seems to be skilfully avoiding the sobbing woman like she’s invisible, and Chloe has a need to help people who need help.

It’s with this driving thought in mind that she crouches down, placing her multiple bags down next to her. She places a friendly hand on the brunette’s shoulder, earning a small flinch in response.

The woman raises her head, and Chloe can see just how upset she is. The redhead suspects it’s a little more than just the noodles that has her in tears.

Despite the glistening tear tracks carved into her skin, the woman is beautiful. Her eyes may be red and puffy but they’re a gorgeous navy colour that reminds Chloe of the dark depths of the ocean in a storm.

“Hey, I’m Chloe. Are you okay?” Chloe regards the woman with a gentle expression, softening all her features, warm smile in place.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the brunette assures, offering a weak smile along with the words. She wipes her tears away with a shaky hand. “I’m Beca.”

“Nice to meet you Beca,“ Chloe replies brightly, as always. “You don’t, uh, seem fine though. Because ya know, you’re crying.” She’s hesitant to ask, but does so anyway since she’s a curious person and wants to help in any way she possibly can.

“Dude, I’m fine. I swear I’m not usually like that. I’ve had a... weird week.”

“Well I gathered crying over split noodles was a little weird,” Chloe giggles. Beca smirks, blinking slowly, her eyelashes still sticky with tears. The redhead’s breath catches in her throat, unbelieving as to how beautiful Beca is.

“I... yeah. It’s a long story.”

“Do you wanna come grab a coffee with me?” Chloe asks sweetly, placing a hand innocently on Beca’s knee.

“Um, sure.” Beca picks herself up off the floor, her tears now nonexistent. Faint tracks are still visible on her flushed cheeks, and her thick eyeliner is smudged beyond repair, but her hair is falling in soft waves round her face, and Chloe thinks she looks beautiful.

“Come on! A coffee a day keeps the doctor away,” Chloe chirps cheerfully.

“You know that’s not the saying, right?”

“Shh, Becs. Just come with me.”


	10. you’re okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #10:  
> “you just came in with a cv and i should probably give it a thorough reading but on the other hand if i hire you right now i can stare at your face every day” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: panic attack

Beca’s wiping down the counter when she comes in, all sunshine and smiles. Her fiery red curls look soft, tumbling down to her shoulders, bouncing gently every time she walks. Her eyes, _god_ , her eyes. They’re electric, mesmerising, hypnotic. Beca feels herself getting lost in them, drowning with no hope of ever being saved. Drowning, drowning, drowning.

She’s snapped out of her trance when the girl waves a hand in front of her face, slender fingers dancing from side to side. Beca blinks rapidly, eyelashes fluttering as she tries to drag her focus away from how beautiful the woman is.

“Um, can I help you?” Beca squeaks out, squeezing the cloth in her hand till her knuckles turn white. Her heart is racing a million miles a minute, and she feels like she can’t breathe. It’s suddenly too hot, too stuffy, too stifling.

“Yes! I have my CV. I’d like to apply for the job opening here?” The redhead reaches out and places an innocent hand over Beca’s, smiling sweetly. The touch is like a bucket of ice against the brunette’s burning skin, bringing her crashing back to reality. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Um, y-yes of course. That’s, uh, that would be fine. Great even,” Beca stammers. “I’m Beca.” The words are a struggle to push out, and a bright blush settles over her cheeks. She’s never wanted the ground to swallow her up more in her entire life.

This even beats the time she’d walked in on her dad and Sheila doing... “stuff” she really does not want to think about.

“So are you going to look at it? Do you need a few days? Do you want my number so you can call me about it?” Chloe’s still smiling brightly, seemingly oblivious to the extreme effect she’s having on Beca.

The brunette chokes at the thought of having Chloe’s number saved in her phone. That would mean they’d be able to talk anytime. Not that the redhead would want to. Not when Beca’s a bumbling mess.

“Sure, um, yeah.” Beca’s beginning to wonder if she should just hire the woman on the spot, since she knows for a fact she will end up hiring her, good CV or not. If she hires Chloe right now, she could possibly be able to stare at her for the rest of the day. If the redhead could take a shift, that is.

“Are you sure? You seem a little... off.” Chloe’s staring at her with those wide blue eyes and Beca is still _drowning, drowning, drowning_ and she can’t form a sentence to save her life.

“God, um, I’m not okay. I mean, yes I’m sure I want to hire you. Wait, I meant... I’m fine. I’m just a little, uh, hot. Yes, hot. Are you hot? I’m hot. Not hot as in wow smoking body, but hot as in heat. I’m not saying that you’re not hot because you are, you definitely are, I just mean that... god I’m rambling and I sound so stupid oh my god. Just leave your CV on the counter I need to go, I need to just—” Beca can’t breathe, and suddenly her head is spinning.

Chloe stares at her, a thick curtain of concern falling over her eyes. “Beca, just breathe.” She grips the gasping brunette’s hand tightly in her own, stroking Beca’s knuckles gently. “Breathe in for four, hold for four, out for four,” she coaches soothingly, holding Beca’s panicked gaze.

Slowly but surely, the brunette’s heart rate decreases, and her flushed cheeks begin to pale back to their normal colour.

“I’m sorry,” Beca mumbles. “That wasn’t part of the plan.” She’s beyond embarrassed and really just wants to curl up in a tiny ball of sadness because if she had a chance with Chloe before (she didn’t), she definitely doesn’t have one now.

“It’s totes okay! Like, don’t worry about it at all,” Chloe says reassuringly, and because Chloe’s voice is so soft and calm Beca almost believes her.

“I don’t really know what happened.”

“Me neither, but you’re okay now. You’re okay.” The redhead is still stroking her knuckles, looking at Beca through her long lashes, still smiling. Always smiling.

And Beca believes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have this ability to turn a nice sweet prompt into something angsty i hate it i’m sorry with a capital s.


	11. healthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #11:  
> “i told you to eat more healthily but you thought i was trying to tell you you needed to lose weight so now you’re not eating properly” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of eating disorder, implied anorexia

 

“Beca! You have got to eat more healthily!” Chloe shouts, the words harsh, slicing through the air as the redhead barges into Beca’s bedroom.

Chloe Beale rarely gets angry, and when she does, it’s for good reason. So Beca’s more than a little worried right now. If Chloe’s yelling at her for eating junk, then she probably needs to be worried.

“Woah, what?” Beca says, throwing her hands up in surrender. She takes in the angry Chloe that’s standing in her doorway, frustration scrawled all over her face. The brunette swallows, determined not to take the anger to heart.

(She’s still worried that she’s done something to upset Chloe though. She hates angry Chloe, especially if it’s her that causes it.)

“All you do it sit around and eat junk food! You practically live off coffee and crisps and that’s not healthy, Beca! You need to eat vegetables and do more exercise.” Chloe’s words are sharp, delivered like the blade of a knife, slicing into Beca’s skin.

She tunes out after that, but she thinks Chloe keeps talking. Judging by the movement of pink lips, she is.

But all Beca can focus on is the “all you do is sit around” and “you need to do more exercise” because that’s basically Chloe telling her she’s fat, right?

(Beca has always had problems with her weight, especially throughout high school. She was diagnosed with an eating disorder at age twelve, and was hospitalised at age thirteen.

She recovered, though. Slowly but surely. She was seventeen when she finally felt comfortable in her own body again.)

She’s finally recovered, finally happy in her body, but suddenly she’s not. Suddenly she feels fat again, the way she did all those years ago. Her head turns towards her mirror, so she can see her reflection, and suddenly the sight makes her want to be sick.

“Beca! Are you even listening to me?!” Chloe yells, slamming her hand against the door. Beca’s head snaps back towards her friend, fighting the tears threatening to prick at the corners of her eyes. She nods, unable to speak. “Becs, are you okay?”

Chloe’s anger fades in a flash, and she advances towards the brunette, one hand outstretched. Beca flinches and scrambles backwards on her bed, self-loathing rising in her chest.

_Why would Chloe want to touch you? You’re ugly, fat, unloved, unwanted._

The voice taunts her and she hates that she listens to it, believes it, but she can’t help it. It invades her thoughts and threatens to possess her.

“Uh, I’d like to be alone,” Beca says simply, and Chloe knows those words mean that Beca is hurt and upset and needs space.

“Was it something I said?” Chloe hates the thought that she may have upset Beca, and she wants to pull her into a hug. But she’s too torn between doing so and respecting Beca’s wish to be alone that she just stands there awkwardly.

“No, just... please leave.” Beca wants, needs, to be alone, and maybe even cry but Chloe’s standing there like a lost puppy and it’s making everything worse.

“Um, okay. I’m here for you if you need me. Just shout.” With one last look at Beca, Chloe trudges from the room, an uncomfortable feeling settling deep in her gut.

* * *

When the Bellas wake for breakfast the next morning, Beca is nowhere to be seen. No note, nothing. It’s 8AM, and everyone knows Beca is never seen awake before at least 12PM on a Saturday.

(Chloe is an exception in this situation, as long as she’s armed with a strong black coffee and willing to cuddle.)

They check her room, yet the bed is made (which is weird in itself), and there’s no trace of their captain. Various theories are concocted, until they decide that it’s probably innocent and that Beca will back soon.

Sure enough, at 9AM, a heavily sweating Beca falls through the door. She’s literally dripping, and clutching at her side as though she’s in pain.

Both Chloe and Stacie rush to her side, asking her worriedly what she’d been doing.

“Running,” Beca answers simply, shrugging off their approaching touches. The two girls stare after her, eyes wide and shining with confusion.

“You never run?” Stacie stays, and it’s more of a question than a statement. Beca’s expressed her hate of running before, so to see the girl in running gear, glistening with sweat, must be something of a miracle.

“I do now,” is Beca’s only answer, before she traipses up to her room, effectively avoiding further questioning.

Stacie just shrugs and goes to the kitchen to grab a smoothie, but Chloe stays in the hall, staring worriedly after Beca. It’s weird, she knows it is. Something isn’t right.

She thinks that perhaps Beca’s run was a result of what was said yesterday — it’s the only logical explanation for it — yet she can’t help but wonder if it’s something deeper than that.

She doesn’t know the reason for Beca’s sudden interest in running, but what she does know, is that something isn’t right.

* * *

It’s two days later when Chloe’s worry spikes again.

She hasn’t seen Beca eat since the day she’d shouted at her for not being healthy enough. Sure, they all eat at separate times anyway, but she knows she hasn’t seen Beca eat. Which is weird, because Beca loves food.

So Chloe goes up to Beca’s room, determined to find out what’s going on, but all she’s met with is a note taped to the door saying “on a run”.

Another one?

As far as Chloe knows, Beca’s been on a three hour run three days in a row. Worry swirls inside the redhead’s gut, and she begins to pace the length of the hall, her mind spinning and whirring.

It’s another hour before Beca returns, dripping with sweat. She shoots Chloe a weak smile and staggers to her room, looking paler than one probably should be after a run. She looks so pale she’s almost green.

Chloe chews her lip anxiously as she watches Beca’s door close, the click resounding through the silent house with a sense of finality.

She needs to know what’s going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ended it there, without exploring beca’s side because i feel like that would need a much deeper story rather than just a quick ficlet. i may or may not explore this prompt further, and turn it onto a short multichapter fic, but i’ll have to see.
> 
> if anyone has ever struggled with anything like this, or still does, my dms are always open. you can chat to me @thequeenssheriff on tumblr or @rosaadiiazz on twitter. stay safe xo


	12. brownies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #12:  
> “exams are coming up and i bake when i’m stressed PLEASE TAKE MY BROWNIES I HAVE 12 TRAYS SITTING AT HOME” au

 

Chloe Beale loves to bake. She bakes when she’s bored, when she’s sad, when she’s happy, when she’s hungry. But most of all, she bakes when she’s stressed. When she’s trying to study but can’t calm the twitching of her leg or the shaking of her fingers as they turn the page of her Russian Lit revision guide.

When this happens, she stops studying and she bakes. And when she bakes, she bakes _a lot_.

Which is why there are currently twelve trays of brownies dotted around her dorm.

Staring around the room and the lack of uncovered surfaces, Chloe realises she may have gone just a little overboard. Okay, a lot overboard. She could just give them to her neighbours. Who doesn’t love brownies?

So Chloe heads next door, a large tray of brownies held securely in both hands. She knocks on the door as best she can with her foot, hoping the sound is loud enough for her neighbour to hear.

A moment later, the door cracks open to reveal a frowning brunette. She’s in sweats with her hair thrown up messily, but Chloe thinks she’s quite possibly the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.

“Hi! I’m Chloe!” She squeaks, a wide smile stretching across her lips. The brunette — who’s name Chloe thinks is Beca — just frowns and shifts her weight to her other hip.

“Great, and I’m busy,” she snaps, moving to close the door. Chloe stares wide-eyed at the rapidly closing door, and sticks her foot out at the last minute, preventing the door from shutting completely. Beca yanks the door back open, a murderous glare on her face. “What do you want?”

“Do you want a brownie?” Chloe asks sweetly, completely ignoring the death glare she’s being fixed with. She knows a little sunshine can cheer anyone up, she just has to work hard enough.

That’s what Chloe strives to do, day after day; cheer people up. It’s what she’s best at. Random smiles shot at strangers, giving to the homeless, going that extra mile for someone’s birthday, volunteering at the local pet store. All things that make other people smile just a little bit wider.

“Dude, if you’re asking for money, no. I’m broke enough as it is. I can’t afford to pay for brownies, no matter how good they look.” Beca picks at the hem of her shirt, her fingers needing to be occupied. She rubs the fabric between her fingers, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she does so.

“No! I’m not asking for money,” Chloe assures, shooting the brunette another cheerful smile. “As you know, finals are coming up and when I’m stressed I bake. Like, a lot,” she explains, earning an understanding nod from Beca. “So do you want them?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” Beca grabs a brownie off the tray, the gooey chocolate sticking to her fingers. Her mouth waters at the sight, the rich aroma of melted chocolate wafting into her nose. _God, if these taste as good as they smell, I’ll be happy to pay,_ she muses.“Thanks,” she says gratefully. If she’s honest, the brownie is just what she needs. She’s been studying like crazy for the past two hours, and her hand feels like it’s going to drop off at any moment.

Beca goes to close the door, but is stopped by Chloe jamming her foot in between yet again. “Wait! Are you not going to take the whole tray?” She asks innocently, eyes wide and hopeful.

“The whole tray? How many do you have?”

“I have eleven trays left!” Chloe knows it may sound like a lot, but her high score is thirty trays, so thinking positively, twelve trays really isn’t a lot.

“You’re kidding, right?” Beca’s jaw drops, and Chloe immediately rethinks her previous thought. Okay, so perhaps twelve trays of brownies is a little too many.

“Nope!” Chloe’s electric blue eyes twinkle like stars in the sky, and Beca may just be a little lost in them. But _no_. She does _not_ do this. She does _not_ get lost in pretty girls eyes. And she _definitely_ does not think they’re cute.

“Dude,” Beca breathes, snapping herself out of her trance. _Twelve trays of brownies?!_ “This isn’t going to end like Hansel and Gretel, right?” She jokes, smirking.

“Oh my god, no.” Chloe’s eyes widen, her smile stretching even wider, and Beca swears she sees her pearly teeth glint in the bright lighting of the hall.

“Good.”

“I’ll see you around then,” Chloe says, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She doesn’t want to admit that she’d hoped she could spend some more time with Beca.

“Wait— it’s Chloe, right?” Beca’s about to throw caution into the wind, something she just about never does, but she’s fed up of being lonely. She likes Chloe, only as a _friend_ , of course. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be friends. She doesn’t know unless she tries, right? At Chloe’s gentle nod, soft curls bouncing softly, Beca clears her throat. “Do you maybe wanna come in? I think we could both use a break.”

Chloe’s face lights up. The grin on her face is so wide Beca finds it a tad scary, but the redhead is looking at her like she’s her whole world and hung the stars in her sky, so Beca’s happy. It’s a soft fuzzy feeling low in her gut that she hasn’t felt in years, and it spreads and blossoms deep within her like the first buds during spring.

She has to admit, it feels great.

“Oh my god! Of course!”

Beca opens the door wide for Chloe to come in, trying to fight the smile threatening to stretch across her lips. It feels good. She feels special.

And she knows she’s fucked. She knows it. Yet she doesn’t care. And that’s saying something.


	13. birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #13:  
> “i’m a barista and the regulars somehow found out it was my birthday and did a flashmob a cappella version of my favourite song i’m crying” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: implied depression
> 
> this turned out a lot longer and surprisingly better than i originally expected, so enjoy.

Beca hates birthdays. She thinks they’re dumb and pointless. She didn’t ask to be born, so why should she be forced to celebrate her day of birth? She hasn’t exactly got much to celebrate.

The brunette works a shitty low-paying job at Starbucks, right in the centre of town with too many rude customers and not enough breaks. She works a tough eight hour shift (8AM-4PM) with one break in the middle to grab food. She does get free food, but _ugh_ , there are only so many times you can eat a cheese and ham toastie without feeling sick.

And it’s for this reason that she hasn’t told anyone about her birthday. There’s only one other barista working today — Julia, who’s that stereotypical fake bitch type — so it’s not like there’s anyone to celebrate it with either.

Beca plans to order a Thai takeaway after her shift and binge watch something on Netflix. Exactly like a normal evening. The only difference will be her splurge on the Thai, since she’s now used to pot noodle and bread every day, maybe some cheese if she’s lucky.

The only upside (and she literally means “only”) is the small group of regulars that come in... well, regularly. By regularly, Beca means nearly everyday. It’s the only thing that makes her smile, the only thing that keeps her from quitting her job and rotting away in her shitty one-bed apartment.

The bunch of girls are an a capella group that tour round America and perform at local bars. They’re pretty successful if what Beca’s heard is true. (And she most definitely has not spent hours and hours watching them perform on YouTube).

They’re her only friends, which is admittedly pretty sad. She sees them once a day unless they’re on tour, and she never sees them outside of work. So can they really be counted as friends? Probably not.

Okay so they’re not friends.

They’re just people who make her happy, the people who inject a shot of light into her otherwise dark days. And when they’re touring? Beca moves around, earphones permanently jammed into her ears, her depressing playlist the only thing on repeat.

There’s one woman amongst them, one woman that shines particularly brightly. The woman with the soft red curls that bounce every time she walks, those electric blue eyes that pierce Beca’s soul.

Her name is Chloe.

And Beca is maybe in love with Chloe. Maybe. (Okay, she totally is, but hates to admit that she’s fallen for a woman she’ll never be able to have.)

Whenever Chloe is around, signature smile painted onto her face, pearly teeth twinkling, Beca’s smile becomes just a little wider. She hates to admit it, but just seeing Chloe can boost her day from a 1/10 to a whopping 9/10. The only thing that would earn any day a 10/10 would be a kiss, which will obviously never happen.

So Beca settles for shooting longing glances in Chloe’s direction when the redhead isn’t looking, and writing cute messages on her coffee cup. Because they’re kind of friends. Right?

Beca’s currently wiping down the counter, mentally counting down the minutes until the Barden Bellas arrive. Their daily arrival time is certainly not fixed — it’s always Fat Amy’s fault that they’re late — so Beca guesses they’ll come between 10:00 and 10:30AM.

Sure enough, at 10:12AM, the Barden Bellas burst into the coffee shop, Chloe at the front. She looks absolutely radiant in a flowing cream dress that compliments her fiery locks and electric eyes beautifully, and Beca fights to keep her jaw from dropping.

Chloe’s eyes are twinkling as usual, an excited smile across her face. Beca can’t help but beam at the redhead, her heart swelling inside her chest till she feels like it’s going to burst.

Aubrey follows behind, carrying a suspicious-looking carrier bag. Beca tries not to wonder what’s in it. The rest of the Bellas filter in until they’re all stood in front of the counter, beaming smiles on their faces.

“Okay guys, why are you all acting so weird?” Beca asks, wondering why they’ve all been staring at her silently, exchanging knowing grins for the past few minutes.

“Why are we acting so weird?! How could ask that! It’s your birthday!” Chloe squeals, grabbing Beca’s hands over the counter, squeezing tightly. The redhead’s hands are cool upon the brunette’s warm, slightly sweaty ones, and it’s pleasantly refreshing.

Beca takes a deep breath and wonders exactly how they all know. No one except her family knows her birthday. No one. She hopes they haven’t gone overboard. Not that they would. I mean, they’re not really friends, are they? She just serves them coffee most days of the year, which doesn’t make them friends (sadly).

“Uh, yeah, it is,” Beca says half-heartedly, pulling her hands away from Chloe’s so she can continue to wipe down the counter. She doesn’t notice the confused and slightly shocked glances the group exchange.

“Are you not excited?” Fat Amy asks her, placing her hands firmly on the counter as she fixes Beca with a narrow-eyed glare.

“Um, no?”

“Why not?!”

“What?”

“ _Why?!_ ”

“Oh-Em-Aca-Gee! Why not? How can you _not_ be excited?!”

The Bellas all explode into a cacophony of noise, but Beca just grimaces and shrugs. She doesn’t want to admit the reason she hates her birthday, because it’s lame and depressing and she doesn’t want to bring anyone down with her less-than-fun life problems. The weight of them makes her want to cry, and she never cries, which is saying something.

“Becs,” Chloe says softly, hushing the group with a wave of her hand. Beca watches the slender fingers dance in the air, noting how the the pretty red nail polish matches the red flowers on her dress. “Why don’t you like your birthday?”

“Just don’t. No reason,” Beca lies, her voice tight and her body completely tensed up. If Chloe doesn’t believe her bullshit answer, she doesn’t say so. Instead, she just nods and smiles.

“Okay, well we um, we prepared something for you. I hope we can still do it, even though you don’t like your birthday.” Chloe’s voice is so hopeful Beca doesn’t even dream of saying no. Not trusting herself to speak, the brunette just nods silently and places the cloth down on the counter. “Brilliant!”

“Girls, in formation!” Aubrey, the co-captain, calls to the rest of the group. They all rush to form a diamond, using the small space of the cafe to fit their needs. The customers — granted there are only three, all sat quietly — are disregarded as the Bellas prepare.

Beca assumes they’re going to sing, and she’s looking forward to it for the sole reason that she’s going to finally hear Chloe sing live, and not through a mobile phone speaker. If the redhead sounds anywhere near as good live as she does on her phone, Beca knows she’ll be blown away.

Chloe counts them in quietly, snapping her fingers together. And then suddenly a beat begins, followed by soft ooh’s and ah’s overlapping each other perfectly.

And then Chloe begins to sing, her voice ringing out clear and sweet over the harmonies being sung behind her.

“You shout it out,  
But I can’t hear a word you say,  
I’m talking loud, not saying much,  
I’m criticised, but all your bullets ricochet,  
You shoot me down, but I get up.”

Beca gasps softly. They’re singing Titanium, her absolute favourite song. It’s her most played song on her iTunes; she can’t go a day without hearing it three times at the very least. She watches the performance, eyes glistening with tears as Chloe continues to sing, smiling — dare she say — lovingly at her the whole time.

“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose,  
Fire away, fire away,  
Ricochet, you take your aim,  
Fire away, fire away,  
You shoot me down, but I won’t fall,  
I am titanium,  
You shoot me down, but I won’t fall,  
I am titanium.”

A fuzzy feeling spreads through her body like wildfire as the performance goes on, and she becomes lost in Chloe’s eyes. They’re hypnotic, and she finds she can’t look away.

By the end, Beca has tears dripping silently down her cheeks and a blinding smile on her lips. She comes out from behind the counter just in time for Chloe to pull her into a tight hug.

It’s the first time the redhead has hugged her, so Beca inhales deeply, falling in love with Chloe even more. She smells like vanilla and sunshine, and Beca loves it. The small woman lets herself melt in Chloe’s warm embrace, clutching to her tightly.

It’s the most physical contact she’s had with anyone in six months, and she suddenly realises how much her body has missed it. She feels alive, a buzz shooting through her veins.

Chloe pulls away, and Beca feels the loss keenly. The soft warmth is gone, and she suddenly feels oddly cold. She hates it.

But then the redhead is grinning as she clutches the big carrier bag, and Beca’s back to smiling dopily.

“So what did you think?” Chloe asks excitedly, practically vibrating on the spot. Beca doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone so excited for anything. It’s adorable.

“I loved it,” Beca confesses. “But how did you know it was my birthday? And that Titanium was my favourite song?”

Chloe just winks and taps her nose, signalling that it’s a secret, so Beca huffs lightly and pouts. “Don’t be mad! We brought gifts!” She pulls out four beautifully wrapped gifts (undoubtedly done by Aubrey).

Beca tears up are the mere sight of them. She hasn’t been given any gifts for her birthday since she was fifteen, and she’s now twenty eight. It’s been thirteen years. She’s used to it by now, of course, but suddenly seeing gifts, actually _for her_ , is overwhelming.

“You didn’t have to,” Beca whispers, clutching the counter for support; she thinks her legs may just give way beneath her in a minute.

“Of course we did,” Fat Amy interrupts. “You’re our friend, and friends celebrate each other’s birthdays!” The rest of the Bellas nod in agreement, and Beca just bites her lip desperately, trying not to cry. She hates crying, especially in public. Staring up at the ceiling, she blinks the traitorous tears away.

“Open them!” Chloe prompts, pushing the four gifts into her hands. Beca lets out a wet laugh and places three of the four on the counter, leaving one in her hand.

After tearing into the paper, Beca pulls out a soft black hoodie. It’s big and it looks extremely warm and it’s the fluffiest thing she’s ever felt. It’s probably more expensive than she could ever afford, and now she has something to keep her warm in the winter since she can’t afford to pay for heating.

The second gift is a voucher for her favourite Thai takeaway place, so she can “treat herself”. This brings even more tears to Beca’s eyes, because _how could they have known she loves this place?_

Gift number three is a gorgeous silver necklace with a single music note charm that forces the salty tears to spill from Beca’s eyes and run down her cheeks.

And finally, gift four is a key. When Beca looks up at them in confusion, Chloe steps forward and takes her hands. “Beca, we’re inviting you to come live with us in the Bellas house. It’s mad, wild, and messy, but we all love each other and we love you. We know you’re in a shitty place, and we want to help you. You won’t be a burden, we want to welcome you into our family.”

At this, a sob wracks through Beca’s body and she buries her head in Chloe’s shoulder as soon as the redhead sweeps her into a comforting hug. The brunette is overwhelmed and shocked, but is filled with that fuzzy feeling of love once more, so strong it almost knocks her off her feet.

She whispers a soft “yes” into Chloe’s ear, lips accidentally brushing the skin. The redhead shudders, and Beca feels an odd sense of pride. She got Chloe Beale to shudder under her touch. That’s something she’s never going to forget.

Beca usually hates birthdays, she has since she was sixteen, but today? Today is the best day of her life.


	14. movie theatre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #14:  
> “i sat next to you in a movie theater and grabbed your hand when the movie got intense because i forgot i came here alone but you just grabbed my hand back and now i’m thankful but also extremely embarrassed” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: wonder woman spoilers
> 
> also, for all intents and purposes, pretend beca likes movies.

Beca pays for her popcorn (a small one, because she’s trying to be healthier) and shoots the lady a quick smile as she thanks her. Clutching her ticket in one hand, food and drink in the other, she heads through to find her screen.

Screen 4 is already dimly lit, stupid advertisements playing on the massive screen. Beca squints at her ticket, trying to read where exactly she’s meant to be sitting. Ah, G10.

She makes her way up the steps to her allocated seat, muttering apologies as she inches down the row, brushing people’s legs as she passes. It’s the kind of contact that makes Beca uncomfortable, so she’s glad when she finally reaches her seat.

There’s a young woman next to her on one side, watching the screen with far too much interest. Beca just smirks and settles back in her seat, ready to witness the wondrous Gal Gadot save the world in an extremely flattering outfit. The brunette’s reminded just how gay she is every time she sets eyes on the stunning actress. She knows she’s likely to come back and rewatch this movie next week, and she hasn’t even seen it yet.

After twenty more minutes of agonisingly boring adverts, the lights dim fully and the screen expands. Finally. Beca scoops up some popcorn, munching quietly as she waits excitedly for the movie to begin.

* * *

It’s nearly the end of the movie, and Wonder Woman is currently being beaten in the battle against Ares. Beca’s whole body is tense, her lip sore from how hard she’s been biting on it.

Steve runs towards Diana, his final goodbye before he goes on his suicide mission to save London. Beca has tears in her eyes because poor Diana seems so lost, and the brunette looks so beautiful.

As Steve runs off, Wonder Woman calling after him desperately, Beca blindly reaches next to her and grabs the woman’s hand in hers. She suddenly realises what she’s done — she’s tightly gripping a stranger’s hand, highly embarrassed at how sweaty her palm feels.

Beca risks a sideways glance, reluctantly tearing her eyes from the intense battle on the screen. The woman meets her embarrassed gaze, but just smiles at her, eyes glossed over with tears as well. Beca feels fingers intertwine with hers, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

She’s holding hands with a stranger. That’s totally normally, isn’t it? No, it absolutely isn’t. Beca’s just thankful the woman hadn’t freaked out and yelled at her.

So with her hand gently holding the stranger’s next to her, Beca turns back to the movie, just in time to see Wonder Woman defeat Ares.

Multiple excited hand squeezes are exchanged between the two women, but no words are said as the action unfolds on the screen before their eyes.

* * *

As the movie ends and the lights slowly grow brighter, Beca pulls her hand from the stranger’s grasp. She hastily wipes the tears from her eyes and stands up, pulling her coat on.

“Hey,” the woman next to her says, smiling. Beca takes a proper look at her, jaw dropping in shock. She’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. Her red hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and her eyes, those twinkling blue eyes that see straight into Beca’s soul.

“Hey,” Beca replies, snapping out of her reverie and snapping her mouth shut.

“I’m Chloe! Did you enjoy the movie?” The redhead asks excitedly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she giggles.

“I’m Beca,” the brunette replies. “Yeah, I loved it. Sorry for, uh, grabbing your hand like that.” Beca sheepishly scratches she back of her neck as she looks anywhere but Chloe’s gorgeous face.

“It’s totally okay! It was nice actually. It felt like we were sharing the experience,” Chloe says, and Beca lets out a breath of relief.

“Thank god. I’d assumed you weren’t mad since you held my hand too, but you never know.”

“So... what are your plans for the afternoon?” The pair leave their row and begin walking down the steps, following everyone else as they left. Chloe makes sure to walk close to Beca, brushing their hands together at every given opportunity. Knowing it‘s causing the adorable blush that’s spreading across the brunette’s cheeks, Chloe smirks.

“Um, nothing really. Go home and watch Netflix I guess,” Beca answers, shrugging. She really doesn’t have any plans, and realises that she’s going to be a little lonely back in her apartment.

“You’re free? Wanna grab a coffee with me?”

Beca’s heart skips a beat, and she can’t fight the smile that stretches across her lips. “You’re not doing anything either?”

“Nope!”

“Then yeah, I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i chose wonder woman because it’s the kind of film you just cry in gay at. well, that’s what i did. and since beca and chloe are “total lesbians” (anna kendrick’s words not mine), i thought it would be fitting!


	15. backstage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #15:  
> “i went to see you live in concert and was front row and you went into the crowd and i grabbed your hand, but started freaking out so much that i was touching you that incouldn’t let go to the point where security had to physically tear me away from you and now you’ve invited me backstage literally what” au

Chloe jumps up and down excitedly as she sings (aka yells) along to the lyrics of _Titanium_. She’s finally here. ‘Here’ being at one of Beca Mitchell’s concerts. She’s loved the singer-songwriter for years now, since the woman began her career. Now the small brunette is performing in front of hundreds of thousands.

Somehow, she’s managed to snag a place in the front row, within arms reach of Beca. Her friend Fat Amy gave her the ticket, and she did ask the Australian how she’d acquired it, but had come away with nothing. She thinks it’s best not to question the woman’s methods, and just be grateful. She’s waited for this for six years. And now finally she’s so close.

The concert is nearly over, much to Chloe’s dismay, but it’s been amazing and most definitely the best day of her life so far. And it will be forever, there’s no doubt about that.

 _Titanium_ is Beca’s last song of the concert, and her most popular. Chloe adores it. It’s special to her. She listens to it when she’s happy, sad, angry. Anytime and anywhere. It empowers her, fills her with a sense of strength she loves.

Beca walks forward on stage, a beaming smile stretched across her lips, belting out the words with happy tears in her eyes. She reaches down to her fans, letting them grab her hands and high five her as she drags her hand along the front row.

Chloe’s heart shoots up into her throat, her pulse skyrocketing. She’s going to touch Beca Mitchell. Actually touch her. She’s silently freaking out, and stops singing, too nervous to even think.

And before she knows it, Beca’s grabbing her hand. Chloe’s brain short circuits, and she tangles her fingers with the brunette’s, unable to let go. Beca looks her in the eye and winks, smiling softly. It’s a special smile, one that renders Chloe unresponsive to anything else. She’s still holding Beca’s hand, who doesn’t actually seem to mind.

But it seems she’s been holding on for a little too long, because security are grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her backwards before she realises what’s happening. Beca blows her a kiss as she leaves, and Chloe can’t do anything but stare blankly.

Once she’s dragged from the concert and pushing down into a chair — supervised by an overweight security guard — her brain finally catches up with her.

She held hands with the Beca Mitchell.

Except now she’s probably freaked her out. Who just holds onto someone’s hand and doesn’t let go? A world famous celebrity’s hand, no less. Shame colours her cheeks the longer she thinks about it.

Dropping her head into her hands, Chloe allows herself to get lost in the amazing evening she’s had, reliving the moments over and over in her head.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Beca leaves the stage after a heartfelt speech about gratitude. How she wouldn’t have made it without her fans. How she’s grown as a person, and is so so grateful. Chloe listens fondly, unable to keep the smile from her face. She’s been lucky enough to witness that growth, that change.

What Chloe doesn’t expect, is for Beca to approach her two minutes later. “Leave,” she says to the security guard, who just stares at her like she’s mad.

“But Ma’am, she tried to—“ he begins, rising from his chair.

“She didn’t try to do anything. I’d like to speak with Chloe alone.” The guard just nods mutely and scurries off, and Chloe would be focused on Beca’s gorgeous face if she wasn’t quietly freaking out about the fact the singer knows her name.

_How does she know? She could have just checked... but no one else would have known. Maybe from twitter? She’s replied to five of my tweets now, but I wouldn’t have thought she’d remember me? She’s replied to hundreds of fans tweets. I’m not special. I’m just one in a million. One follower in her thirty million followers._

“Chloe,” Beca says, turning to the redhead. Chloe snaps out of her trance, her tornado of thought dying down. The woman opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, trying to form a sentence, or even a single word.

“Uhhhh,” is all she manages. She knows she must look absolutely ridiculous. Her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and her hands fly to the skin, her cool palms soothing her burning cheeks.

“Dude, _breathe_ ,” Beca says softly, squatting down in front of Chloe. She places her hand on the redhead’s knee and rubs the clothed skin gently. This really doesn’t help the situation at all.

Chloe just focuses on the fact Beca Mitchell’s hand is on her leg. She’s freaking out. This is better than any dream she’s had about the two of them. Well, maybe not certain ones, but most of them.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe chokes out eventually. “I’m just... a little freaked out right now.”

“Why?” Beca looks genuinely confused and the redhead thinks it’s adorable. The way her eyes shine and her head tilts slightly to the side reminds her of a confused puppy.

“I’ve followed you from the start. For six years. I’m obsessed. I have your posters in my room, I have pictures of you on my phone— oh god I sound like a stalker. I’m not I promise! I just... I’d die for you, you know? You make me so happy. You’re an inspiration to me and I’ve only dreamed of a day like this. Meeting you is at the top of all my dream boards. Having you so close is freaking me out a bit. In a good way! Definitely in a good way. By the way you smell so good. I’m rambling, um, I’m going to shut up now sorry.” Chloe finishes with a deep breath, unable to make eye contact with the small woman. She’s too worried she’s made a fool of herself and ruined everything. She’ll probably get chucked out of the venue in a minute.

“Dude, it’s okay. I’m extremely flattered you’re such a fan. I mean, I’m pretty average, so it’s—“

“What do you mean average?!” Chloe interrupts, standing abruptly from her chair. Beca rises quickly too, taking a step back so she’s not hit by the redhead’s wildly gesticulating hands. “You’re absolutely gorgeous! I mean your hair looks so soft and amazing all the time, and your style is absolutely amazing. Your eyes are like an ocean on a stormy day, and your smile is a little more rare, but when it appears, it lights up the room you’re in. Beca, you’re—I mean you’re stunning. You have to know that.” Chloe’s hands are trembling by the end, her heart thumping in her chest from the outburst. She suddenly realises she interrupted what Beca had been saying, and she winces. “I’m sorry for interrupting,” she adds on.

“It’s fine, I mean... wow. You-you really think that? I mean I know people tell me I’m gorgeous and hot everyday and stuff but I guess it’s harder to believe when you just don’t see that in yourself,” Beca explains, clearly a little uncomfortable. The singer scratches behind her neck awkwardly, nibbling softly on her bottom lip.

Chloe notices this, and feels her heart go out to the small woman. Beca has no need to feel insecure, and it pains the redhead to know that she does feel that way.

Tentatively, she places a hand on the brunette’s shoulder, rubbing her thumb up and down slowly. “I’m sorry that you don’t think you’re beautiful. But you are. Inside and out. You take my breath away every time I look at you,” Chloe confesses honestly.

“I do?” Beca looks up at her with wide, hopeful eyes, and Chloe’s heart melts. She desperately wants to just cup the singer’s cheeks and pull her in for a kiss. But she can’t do that. Definitely not. That would certainly get her kicked out.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.” Chloe smiles softly, wondering for the hundredth time how she ended up in this situation.

Beca doesn’t reply. Instead, she grabs the redhead by the back of the neck and pulls her forward, smashing her lips onto glossy pink ones. Chloe doesn’t respond for a second — she’s too busy internally freaking out — and Beca thinks she read the signs wrong. But then Chloe brings her hands up to cup Beca’s cheeks, parting her lips as she does so.

It lasts all of three seconds longer. Beca pulls away with flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips. What happened slams into Chloe like a freight train, and she gasps, staring wide-eyed at the smirking brunette.

“Come on, I’ll show you my dressing room,” Beca says, winking as she laces her pale fingers with Chloe’s.

She begins to walk away, and Chloe follows dumbly, still in a trance. What a day she’s having. It’ll forever be the best day of her life.

She kissed Beca Effin’ Mitchell. World famous singer. Chart topper. Both hot and adorable brunette.

Chloe can’t keep the grin off her face as she links hands with Beca, excited for her backstage tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i toyed with the idea of putting “and then she woke up” at the end, just to be mean, but i decided to be nice instead :)
> 
> also, follow my new pitch perfect blog @annaakendriick on tumblr!


	16. inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #16:  
> “i needed a character model for this thing i’m writing and you’re the first person i saw in this coffee shop/library and now i have to keep staring at you for my character and you’ve started to notice shit” au

Chloe dumps her backpack on the small table, plonking herself in the seat as she unzips the bag. She has an assignment due for her Creative Writing class, which she’s had trouble doing due to lack of inspiration. The paper is due in two days though, so she can’t put it off any longer.

She just needs a spark of inspiration, preferably someone to base her character model on. But no one quite fits what she’s looking for. Hell, she doesn’t even know what she’s looking for. Maybe for once, she’ll have to turn in a shitty assignment.

As Chloe sets up her laptop, plugging the lead into the socket next to the table, she catches sight of a small brunette sitting alone in the far corner of the coffee shop. She has oversized headphones over her ears, and is hunched over a MacBook in a large black hoodie.

The redhead rises impulsively from her chair as she stares, something low in her stomach tugging her towards the mysterious girl. She suddenly realises she can’t just waltz up to the girl — that would be both weird and creepy — so she moves over to the counter to order something.

As she waits for her caramel latte, she can’t help flicking her eyes over to where the girl is sat, her brows furrowed in concentration. “Ma’am?” Chloe snaps out of her daze as her coffee is placed on the counter in front of her. She mumbles a quick thank you and scurries back to her table before the brunette notices her staring.

She pulls up a Word document and pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she stares at the blinking curser on the screen. After another glance over at the girl, she begins typing, slender fingers flying over the keys.

Chloe’s forced to keep looking over, trying to memorise the way the girl looks so she can avoid being as creepy as she probably looks. She thinks she’s doing a pretty good job of being subtle until the brunette pushes back her chair abruptly, the legs scraping aggressively over the tiled floor.

Before Chloe knows what’s happening, the girl, who’s smaller than Chloe had originally thought, marches over to where she’s sat. “Dude, what the fuck is your problem?” She snaps, folding her arms over her chest defensively.

“What? I don’t have a problem?” Chloe knows her staring was probably a little more unnerving that she’d thought. Oops.

“You keep staring at me. If you’ve got a problem with me, come fight me,” the girl growls, glaring menacingly at the redhead. Despite her height (or lack of it), Chloe doesn’t doubt for a second that the girl would beat her in a fight.

“Wait, no, don’t fight me. Um, I’m doing an assignment for my Creative Writing class and I was lacking inspiration. But then I saw you and everything just clicked.” It sounds worse now Chloe says it out loud, and she winces.

“Really? You were inspired by looking at _me_?” The girl seems more baffled by the fact she sparked inspiration than the fact Chloe was staring at her, which is a relief.

“Yeah,” Chloe says simply, shrugging. “I’m Chloe, but the way.”

“Beca,” the brunette replies, nodding curtly.

“Do you want to, um, maybe sit with me?”

“What? Why?” Beca frowns at the offer, a genuinely confused expression settling over her face. Chloe stares at her fondly, thinking just cute she looks with her nose all scrunched up.

“As friends?” Chloe offers hopefully, blue eyes shining brightly.

“We’re friends now?” There’s a tinge of hope lacing Beca’s tone too, and the redhead grins.

“Of course!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this in twenty minutes, sorry if it’s shit *shrugs*


	17. gummies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #17:  
> “we’re sitting next to each other on this plane and and i was eating gummies, but i left all the green ones cause they’re absolute shit and now you’re asking if you can have them” au

 

“Can I have your green gummies?”

Beca’s head snaps to the side, her gaze landing upon the woman next to her. They’re about two inches apart, and sharing a blanket (thanks to a muttered agreement early on in the flight).

The woman in question is smiling easily, looking at Beca through thick lashes. Her eyes are electric, blue like ice. Definitely melting ice, since they’re warm and soft despite the harsh colour. Beca’s certain this woman is the most gorgeous person she’s ever had the privilege of laying her eyes upon, which is why she silently pushes the leftover gummies towards the woman.

If Beca remembers correctly, the woman’s name is Chloe. The redhead is only in sweats, her soft hair tied up in a messy bun, her face smooth and make-up free, but there’s a natural, effortless beauty about her that makes Beca jealous.

She’s wearing jeans and a tank, with her trusty eyeliner on and she still feels and looks like shit. How can someone look so gorgeous without even trying? It’s really not fair.

“Why don’t you like the lime ones?” Chloe asks curiously, the easy smile never leaving her face. Beca shifts in her seat so she can properly see the redhead, and engage in conversation without looking rude. She hates socialising — she’s the most socially awkward person she knows — but for some reason she wants to speak to Chloe.

“They taste like shit,” Beca says honestly, inspecting a strawberry gummy before popping it into her mouth and chewing it quietly.

“No they don’t! They’re like a lovely blend of sweet and sour!” Chloe argues, grabbing two limes from the packet and pushing them straight into her mouth.

Beca feigns offence, and glares at her as they both aggressively chew their respective gummies. Chloe glares back, narrowing her eyes in supposed menace.

“Dude, you’re weird. The lime ones are not sweet _at all_. It’s like sucking on a lime!” Beca emphasises her dislike of them by throwing one at the redhead, who whines as she picks it up from her scarf and pops it into her mouth.

“Yes! Because it’s lime flavour?”

“Just because it’s lime flavour it doesn’t mean I should feel like I’m sucking a fucking lime, does it?!”

“Why not?! Limes are _great_ to suck!”

Glares are exchanged, both annoyed that the other isn’t accepting their argument. People have turned to look at them, frowning at the slightly heated discussion. Okay, so maybe they could tone down the noise just a little. They’re just passionate about their argument, which happens to be about something extremely childish.

“You’re weird,” Beca says simply, grabbing an orange gummy. Chloe reaches for a lime one at the same time, and their fingers brush, sending tingles down Beca’s arm.

She’s suddenly hyper aware of how close Chloe actually is. Their thighs are practically touching, their arms gently bumping as they shift. Chloe smells of vanilla and sunshine, if that’s even a thing. Well, she smells like what Beca imagines sunshine smells like. All fresh and perhaps a little fruity.

“You’re weird too,” Chloe argues, her tone playful instead of heated. She pulls the blanket up a little higher as a small shiver runs through her.

“Do you want the blanket?”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I’m just a little cold.” Chloe shifts even closer to Beca, and the brunette wonders if that’s even possible since they’re practically pressed together. But apparently it is, because she feels a pressure against her leg, from thigh to mid-calf. Chloe doesn’t say anything, just grabs Beca’s hand and laces their fingers together. “For warmth,” she offers when Beca looks at her, one eyebrow raised in bemusement.

Chloe may like the lime gummies which taste like absolute shit, but she has soft, warm hands and she smells like Beca’s dreams, and that definitely makes up for her sin in the world of gummies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was half asleep but i suddenly wanted to write this and well, here it is. it’s literally written in about fifteen minutes.


	18. evangelism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #18:  
> “you sell bibles door to door and keep showing up at my house and i’m horribly unreligious, but you look like you’re trying so hard and are kinda cute so i don’t have the heart to tell you to fuck off” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: discussion of christianity (idk if that could be triggering? but better to be safe than sorry)

“Hey! My name is Chloe! Can I give you a Bible?”

They’re the first words Beca hears when she pulls open her front door, yawning sleepily. She’s still half asleep; she was woken by the enthusiastic knocking on her apartment door just two minutes ago. She’s in an oversized t-shirt and panties, her legs bare. She’s just thankful she shaved. Her hair is still sitting in a messy bun atop her head, tendrils hanging loose, strands sticking out. In short, she’s a mess.

“Are you telling me I woke up for this?” Beca covers her mouth as she yawns, leaning heavily against the doorframe. As her eyes slowly shift into focus, and she drinks in the sight of the smiling woman in front of her.

She’s cute, with her fiery curls tied into a messy ponytail, and her eyes like a clear Caribbean ocean. Her tight black jeans and knitted mustard sweater compliment her hair perfectly, and Beca wonders if this woman is a model or something, because she’s gorgeous.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you up!” The redhead smiles apologetically, her bright eyes shining.

“Dude, it’s fine.” Beca doesn’t have the heart to tell the woman to leave, even though she’s horribly unreligious.

(She’s pretty sure religious people aren’t meant to swear; something about blasphemy, maybe? If what she’s heard is true, she would be a bad Christian. Her swearing is worse than any sailors.)

“Great! So can I interest you in a Bible? We’re giving them out for free!” Beca’s eyes land on the pile of Bible’s Chloe is carrying under her arm. She winces at the thickness; she’s never been one for reading.

“I’m not religious,” Beca says with a shrug, twirling a loose strand of hair round her finger. Chloe’s smile falters for a split second before it’s back, even bigger than before. Beca feels a little sorry for her; she can see she’s trying, and, by the amount of Bibles she’s carrying, not getting very far.

“Would you mind if I at least told you about my faith and what I do?” Chloe looks so hopeful that the tired brunette can’t bring herself to say no. She really wants to go back to sleep, but she’s worried that the redhead will cry if she tells her to leave.

“Sure dude, if you want.” Beca shifts her weight from one hip to the other, preparing herself for a long rant about how brilliant Chloe’s faith is. Beca has no doubt that it’s helped her and done some other crazy shit but she’s just so tired and knows the information will go straight in through one ear and out of the other.

“So what I’m doing now is called evangelism. It means spreading the word of God! Even if you’re not religious, it doesn’t mean I can’t spread some positivity! I won’t bore you with some long speech about how wonderful God is, and how being a Christian has helped me, because you look like you want to go back to sleep.” Beca winces, because she didn’t realise it was quite that obvious, but Chloe doesn’t seem to mind, because she just giggles.

“Thanks.”

“No problem! I’ll let you go back to bed now, but I just want to let you know that God loves you! You may not be a Christian, or any other religion, but he still loves you, just like everyone else. He’s proud of what you’ve achieved, and he has great things planned for you!” Chloe speaks with such pure joy and enthusiasm that Beca can’t fight the smile that stretches across her lips.

The blinding happiness that the redhead is radiating is infectious, and Beca begins to feel warm and fuzzy in her stomach.

Despite the fact the brunette isn’t religious, she kind of believes there’s something up there, even if she doesn’t know what it is. The warmly spoken words make her feel a little happier, since she has no one else in her life to show her love. Even if the whole God thing is bullshit, it’s a nice concept to believe.

“Thank you. I’m sure he’s proud of you too for doing this evangelism shit,” Beca replies, smiling softly. Chloe doesn’t seem phased by her swearing, which is a plus.

“I hope so too!” Chloe beams, and Beca feels she stomach flip. Why is the redhead’s smile so goddamn adorable?

“Here’s my number!” A scrap of paper is shoved into Beca’s hand before she realises what’s actually happening, and she glances down at it before meeting Chloe’s hopeful gaze with a questioning one of her own.

“So we can meet up for coffee, of course,” Chloe tells her, as though it’s obvious. Beca wonders whether it’s a coffee ‘as friends’ or a coffee ‘as a date’. “It can be a date if you want?” And then Chloe winks, and Beca’s stomach flips again.

“I’d like that.”

They exchange a soft smile before Chloe makes her excuses to leave, insisting that Beca go back to bed. So once the brunette promises to call, the redhead leaves with a skip in her step.


	19. pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #19:  
> “my significant other just broke up with me and i impulse bought like 5 pizzas. can you help me eat them and make me feel less like shit?” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is horribly unedited so excuse any mistakes.

_“We’re done.”_

The words echo around Beca’s mind as she trudges through the aisles of the supermarket. It’s 1AM, an hour after Jesse broke things off with her, claiming she “wasn’t in love with him anymore”. If she thinks about it, she realises that he’s right, she’s not. She’s in love with someone entirely different.

Chloe Beale.

Beca doesn’t know when it happened, but she doesn’t like to dwell on it too much. It’s not like anything is ever going to come of it, so what’s the point in getting hung up over it? The brunette tells herself this now, to make herself feel better, but she knows that later, when she sees Chloe, she’ll feel that familiar pang in her stomach. It’s inevitable, really.

Pushing all thoughts of the gorgeous redhead from her mind (or attempting to), Beca reaches the freezer section. She needs comfort food, and pizza is currently #1 on her list. The only thing before that is Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, but the store is sold out, _of course_ , so pizza will have to do.

There’s a deal on, five for $20 and she’s not really thinking about what she’s doing when she picks up five pizzas, because there’s no way in hell she’ll eat them alone. But then she doesn’t need to. She has the rest of The Bellas to help her out.

The only problem is, she hasn’t told them about her breakup yet. She plans on telling Chloe when she gets back, but she hasn’t quite worked out when she’s meant to break the news to the others.

But Beca really doesn’t want to think about Jesse now. What she wants to do is eat pizza with her best friend.

* * *

When Beca gets home, the house is quiet. It’s 1:30AM, of course it’s quiet. Everyone’s asleep, which is totally normal. Part of Beca had hoped that Chloe would be awake, waiting up for her; she’d been gone since 8PM and hadn’t texted anyone since. But perhaps Chloe doesn’t care for her the way she thought.

_Fuck. I guess it’s pizza for one then._

She rips open the packaging to one of the pizzas, margarita, because pepperoni pizza sucks, and turns on the oven. After sticking the pizza in, Beca makes herself a strawberry tea.

(Chloe introduced the heavenly tea to her a couple of years ago, and she’s been addicted every since.)

Suddenly, Beca feels a hand on her shoulder and she whips round, fist raised, ready to punch. She exhales sharply when she sees it’s Chloe, her arm dropping to her side.

“ _Dude_ , don’t _do_ that,” she huffs, pressing a hand to her chest to calm the sudden rapid beating of her heart.

“Sorry!” Chloe squeaks out an apology before a half-concerned, half-angry look settles on her face. “Where have you been?! You haven’t messaged since 8PM! We’ve been worried _sick_ , Beca. Did you not think about how we’d all feel?!” Chloe’s gesticulating wildly, as she always does when she’s passionate about something. Beca sighs heavily, realising that she probably should have replied to the frantic messages from each of The Bellas.

“Jesse and I broke up,” she says quietly, fiddling with the oven glove still protecting her hand. Chloe’s expression softens considerably, and she frowns.

“What? Why?”

“He just said I didn’t love him anymore.” Beca deliberately skips out the snide comment he’d made about her being in love with Chloe because “all you ever do is spend time with her” and “you always choose her, Beca, always”. So she had firmly told him that “I will always choose Chloe over you, no matter what”. That had obviously escalated into a full-blown shouting match, resulting in a teary-eyed Beca and a regretful Jesse. She’d stormed out before anything else could happen.

“Oh Becs, I’m so sorry.” Chloe envelopes the brunette in a tight hug, wrapping her arms around the small waist of her best friend.

“It’s okay,” Beca says with shrug. She’s not that upset about the breakup; her unrequited love for Chloe definitely ranks higher on her list of things to be sad about.

“You’ll always have me,” the redhead promises softly, pressing a kiss to Beca’s cheek. Her lips are soft and they smell of the mango lip balm she’s currently addicted to. The kiss leaves a sticky mark on the small brunette’s cheek, but she doesn’t wipe it off.

“I hope so,” she whispers.

“So what are you cooking? It’s 1:45 in the morning! How are you hungry?”

“Well I impulse bought five pizzas because they were on offer, and I really needed comfort food. So now I’m cooking one, and I was kinda hoping you’d eat it with me?” It’s posed as a question, just in case Chloe says no. Beca doubts she will because it’s Chloe, but she can never be too cautious when it comes to the redhead.

“Of course I will Becs! It’s margarita, right?”

“Duh, of course.” One thing they both share is their mutual dislike for pepperoni pizza. Even Beca, who loves fast food, agrees it’s too greasy.

“Just checking!” The oven dings quietly, and Beca reaches to open the door. “I’ll get the sauces!” Chloe calls quietly, moving over to the fridge. Beca can’t help but grin as her best friend pulls out various sauces, placing them on the counter as she does so.

She couldn’t have picked a better person to fall in love with.


	20. blind date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #20:  
> “we’re both at this restaurant to meet blind dates, but we meet each other thinking that the other person is the blind date we were supposed to be meeting” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesse isn’t named but he’s the other one (it’ll make sense when you read it)

Beca doesn’t know why she agreed to go on a blind date, especially one that Stacie set up with her girlfriend Aubrey. Apparently Aubrey has this “friend” that’s “perfect for her”. Beca would love to believe Stacie, but knowing her, a woman who used to fuck practically anything with a pulse, the brunette has her reasons to be wary.

(Domestic Stacie is actually extremely adorable, and Beca’s happy her best friend has settled down with someone. Although Aubrey is practically a she-demon, she’s a decent person, and she treats Stacie like a goddess, so Beca’s happy.)

She’s meant to meet the person in the fancy restaurant she’s currently standing outside. With a quick check of her hair in her compact mirror, Beca pulls open the door to the restaurant and steps inside, the warm air enveloping her in its comforting embrace.

The waiter asks her if she has a reservation, but she says she’s meeting someone, and thankfully they let her through. Beca scans the room, trying to spot someone sat alone. She sees two people; one a gorgeous redhead with electric eyes, and the other an average-looking man. The brunette has no idea who she’s meant to be meeting, but the redhead makes eye contact, so she assumes it’s her.

Well damn, she’d been wrong. Unless the woman has a shitty personality, Beca thinks that this night may actually be a decent one. Biting her lip softly, she approaches the table.

“Uh, hey. I’m Beca. I’m meant to be meeting someone for a blind date, and I’m guessing it’s you?”

“Same! I’m Chloe, it’s nice to meet you!” Chloe rises from her chair and pulls Beca into a hug, pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks. Beca inhales deeply, the scent of strawberries and vanilla wafting into her nose.

“Nice to meet you too.” Beca pulls away, and they take their respective seats. “Just to warn you, I’m pretty awkward.” It’s something she tells any potential friend, so they can prepare themselves for random awkward silences and her occasional stuttering.

“Oh my god, it’s totes fine! Apparently I’m super annoying, so I’m sure between us we’ll make a fine couple,” Chloe says cheerfully, shooting a wink at Beca. The brunette blushes, wondering how the redhead can be so relaxed and confident. She wishes she was that happy.

“Uh, that’s good.” Beca bites her lip nervously, staring down at the shiny knife placed on the table in front of her. She feels a tender hand land on her wrist, the fingers soft.

“Becs, relax! I think you’re super hot, and I can’t wait to get to know you! I think we’re going to become really fast friends, and hopefully something more,” Chloe says reassuringly, her voice soothing. Beca smiles gratefully, astounded at how quickly the redhead could calm her down.

“I hope so too,” she replies quietly. “So, um, tell me about yourself?”

“Well, my name is Chloe Beale, and I’m from Atlanta! I have two very protective brothers, and a dog called Billy. My favourite colour is yellow, like the sun, and I’m a trained teacher! I just started helping at a kindergarten; I adore children!” Chloe speaks with such passion and enthusiasm, that by the time she finishes, Beca is staring at her fondly, admiration shining in her eyes.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” she says honestly.

“Aw, shh, it’s not really.” Chloe shrugs, looking bashful for a second. Beca opens her mouth to reassure her, but the redhead cuts her off first. “How about you?”

“Oh, um, I’m from Portland. My parents divorced when I was seven, after my dad left us. My mom died when I was fifteen, and I was in the system until I turned eighteen. I have no siblings, and I’ve never had any pets. I’m a music producer; music kept me going when nothing else did.” The amount of information she shares surprises Beca, since she’s usually about as closed off as a locked safe. She doesn’t know if she should be scared that Chloe can get her to open up so easily. The redhead is practically a stranger to her.

A waiter comes and asks them what they’d like to eat, and they order, opting to go straight for main course instead of having a starter. They continue to talk, smiles growing, a mini game of footsie happening under the table.

Their meals have just arrived when two men approach them, both looking extremely confused. “Is one of you Beca Mitchell?” One asks, and Beca recognises him as the average-looking man she’d seen sitting alone when she’d first arrived. She nods, frowning.

“And is one of you Chloe Beale?” The other man asks. He’s tall and hunky — probably a model — with sandy hair and tanned skin. He’s significantly better looking, Beca decides.

Chloe nods, her brow furrowing too. “What’s going on?” It seems they’re all confused, and Beca suspects there’s been a mix up.

“I was meant to be meeting Beca for a date, Tom was meant to be meeting Chloe. But it seems you met each other instead,” Average Looking explains, and Beca can’t fight the giggle that slips past her lips.

Chloe looks at her, lips curving into a smile, and laughs too. “Oops?”

“Sorry to disappoint boys, but we’re perfectly happy with each other.” Beca reaches across the table and tangled her fingers with Chloe’s to emphasise her point, ignoring the blush she knows is dusting her cheeks.

“Uh… we can see that. We’ll leave you to it then,” Better Looking says. “Drinks on me?” He asks, turning to Average Looking. The other man nods, and they abruptly turn and leave.

“Well, that was weird,” Chloe says as soon as they’re out of earshot. “I’m glad I’m with you and not him!”

“But he’s all fit and muscly, and I’m… me,” Beca squeaks, suddenly timid. Chloe could do so much better than her; Better Looking (she doesn’t like to think of him as Tom) is a thousand times more attractive than she is.

“What?! I’m not into all that stuff,” Chloe assures honestly. “I much prefer you.” Her sparkling eyes sweep approvingly over Beca’s upper half, lingering for a few seconds too many on her cleavage.

“Good,” the brunette says, squeezing Chloe’s hand in hers. “I prefer you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, this is unedited too so if it’s shit i’m sorry


	21. if only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #21:  
> “you’re famous and i was hired by your management to date you for public appearances, but now i’m kinda into you cause you’re actually a really cool person, but you don’t give a shit about me” au

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Chloe flinches a little at the harshly spoken words, and she takes a small step backwards on instinct. The woman in front of her, Beca Mitchell, as she’s learnt, is glaring murderously at her, eyes dark and narrow. She doesn’t know what she’s done to upset the producer, but she doesn’t like it.

She’s a ray of sunshine, the happy person in everyone’s lives. Making people upset makes her anxious. She strives for peace and joy, not anger.

“I-I’m Chloe Beale,” she mumbles nervously, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling furiously. As she looks more closely at Beca, she can see the faint bags under her eyes, desperately hidden by layers of concealer. Her eyes are tinged red with tiredness, and Chloe’s heart goes out to her. Maybe treading lightly is a good idea.

“That name means nothing to me,” the brunette snaps, huffing loudly. It’s clear she doesn’t care about who Chloe is, and the redhead watches as Beca digs her nails into her palms, clearly containing her frustration.

“Julie didn’t tell you?”

“Do you think I’d be asking if Julie told me who you were?” Okay, that was admittedly not Chloe’s best move. Taking a deep breath, she does her best to smile, despite the rapid beating of her heart, hammering away in her chest.

“Sorry, I’m just—“

“God, I don’t have all day, Beale. Spit it out.” Beca looks a fraction away from bursting, and Chloe wraps her arms around her torso in defence. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she blinks them back quickly. Curse her and her sensitive personality.

“I was hired to date you for your public appearances. We don’t have to be friends or anything, I just have to stay with you around paparazzi and stuff,” the redhead explains, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“Ugh, of course you do,” Beca mutters, clearly annoyed at the new information. “Fine, whatever. Now please leave.” And then Beca slams the door in Chloe’s face, leaving the redhead more than a little startled.

So that went well.

* * *

The next time Chloe sees Beca Mitchell is for their first public appearance together. Julie had talked them through what was going to happen, a conversation that had been largely ignored by Beca, who’d been shooting them both glares the whole time, rolling her eyes every time Chloe asked a question.

It makes the redhead feel stupid, a feeling she’s not used to. She’s a catch, and she knows she’s hot, but Beca doesn’t seem to give a shit. Chloe catches herself before she can get teary again — she’d cried over the phone to Aubrey for two hours about meeting Beca the other day — and swallows thickly.

They’re ushered into a limo, cameras flashing as they instinctively grab each other’s hands. Beca drops Chloe’s hand as soon as she sits down, snatching it into her chest like it’s burnt.

Chloe pretends not to notice, and ignores the slight sting in her chest.

* * *

Two hours later, Beca’s drunk. And a drunk Beca is clearly extremely different from the silent, moody Beca that Chloe’s known for four days.

The redhead has been glued to Beca’s side the whole time, watching as the brunette’s walls had slowly slipped down the more alcohol she’d consumed. Ten drink Beca (yes, Chloe’s been observing the behaviour change from drink one) is extremely flirty.

“Chloeeee,” she slurs, slinging an arm around the redhead’s neck. She pushes her face into the side of Chloe’s neck, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to the skin.

“You’re really drunk,” is all Chloe says, patting Beca gently on the shoulder. She tries not to think about how good Beca smells, despite the alcohol on her breath.

“Noooo I’m n-notttt,” the brunette insists. Before Chloe can speak, she’s cut off. “Kiss me, Chloe Beale.” The redhead freezes, and is suddenly reminded of how painfully sober she is.

“Beca, I don’t think—“ She’s cut off when lips slam into hers, Beca’s tongue pushing her lips open. Chloe lets her, because let’s face it, she has a crush on a woman who doesn’t give a flying fuck about her, and she can’t resist the intoxicating taste of Beca’s lips.

Beca’s pushing her up against a wall before she knows what’s really going on, nimble fingers sliding over her torso, fumbling to yank her blouse out of her skirt.

Chloe feels drunk, even though she’s not, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows she shouldn’t be going this. She’s sober, and Beca is drunk. Sober Beca would definitely not want this.

As soft lips trail down to her jawline and start nipping the skin, fingers digging into her hips, Chloe pushes Beca away. It’s hard to, because damn, that woman can kiss, but she knows it’s not right. She hates to be gentlewomanly, but she’s a good person, and she prides herself on doing the right thing.

“Chhhloe? Do you not want thisss? I do, I want you so so much.” Beca’s voice is husky and seductive, her lips brushing Chloe’s earlobe.

“Beca, you don’t. Tell me you want this when you’re sober, and we’ll talk. Not when you’re as drunk as this.” Chloe watches the producer’s face fall, and her stomach twists painfully.

Tears fill Beca’s eyes, spilling over, streaming down her cheeks. Chloe pulls the brunette into a tight hug, stroking her hair soothingly over and over again.

“Shh, Becs, don’t cry, please,” she coos, rubbing her thumb over the woman’s cheekbone. Beca pulls away to smile at her sadly, before burying her face back in the crook of Chloe’s neck, sobbing softly.

After a few more minutes of soothing, Beca leans back and wipes her eyes hastily. “Sorry,” she whispers, her voice wet with tears.

“Don’t apologise sweetie. Wanna tell me what’s up?” Chloe smiles gently, rubbing soothing circles on the back of Beca’s hand.

“No one will ever love me,” the brunette admits, her tone sorrowful. Chloe’s heart drops to her stomach. Before she can ask what the producer means, she’s cut off. “I always act tough, y’know? I act tough so I don’t get hurt, but I want someone, Chlo. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I just want someone to l-love me. Why can’t s-someone love me?” Beca dissolves into sobs before Chloe can speak, so she just pulls her into her arms once more and rubs her back soothingly.

“Becs, that’s not true. I’m sure someone could love you if you gave them the chance. If it was me, I’d be honoured to love you.” Chloe isn’t really thinking about what she’s saying, but she just hopes Beca forgets this.

“I want that someone to be you,” Beca confesses quietly, the words mumbled into Chloe’s neck. The redhead’s heart skips a beat.

_If only._


	22. mattress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #22:  
> “you work at a mattress store and found me sleeping on one of the mattresses at closing time and you’re trying to get me to leave cause you wanna fucking go home” au

“Shit,” Beca mutters, grumbling under her breath as she spots a lump on one of the mattresses. There’s always one. Always one. She wants to get home as soon as she can, eat a pot noodle and go to sleep. (Her eight hour shifts in a goddamn mattress shop make her extremely grumpy).

It’s typical that there’s someone asleep, just as she’s about to lock up and leave. Beca marches over to the person — now discernibly a woman — and prods her back with her finger. No movement.

Fucking brilliant.

Beca walks wround the bed so she can see what the woman actually looks like, not just a head of tousled red hair. An air of tranquility surrounds the woman, her face peaceful as she sleeps. Her lips are curved up into the tiniest of smiles; perhaps she’s having a good dream.

Despite Beca’s bad mood, she really doesn’t want to wake the poor woman. She was clearly very tired, and that’s something Beca can relate to all too well. _Damn_ , now she’s torn. Does she wake the woman up or not? If not, it means Beca has to stay. _Voluntarily_ stay at the place she _hates_.

The brunette perches herself on the edge of the mattress, tucking one leg up underneath her. She stares at the redhead, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest as she breathes evenly.  
Beca wishes she was a calm sleeper. She knows she’s not, because her roommate has taken videos of her writhing around in her sleep, clearly distressed. Apparently it’s funny, but the dreams definitely aren’t.

She decides to let the woman sleep a little longer, so she shuffles back so she’s leaning back against the heardboard. It’s a little uncomfortable, but the soft puffs of breath filling the silence are somewhat soothing, slowly but surely easing away her bad mood.

“I hate it here,” Beca begins softly, not entirely sure what she’s doing. Talking to a sleeping stranger? _Totally_ not weird. “People are either rude, or they just make sexual comments about how they’re going to ‘christen’ the mattress. Ugh, it’s gross. I bet you have a nice job. You’re probably a teacher or something; you look like they kind of person who’d like children. It’s clearly tiring though, otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen asleep.” Beca pauses, wondering how asleep the woman actually is. Hopefully she can’t hear her talking, because Beca’s pretty sure she’d be weirded out if she could.

“You look cute when you sleep. Your hair is all messy, falling gently around your face. Your eyelashes flutter from time to time, and you pucker your lips up into this adorable little pout, and then blow out a short breath. _God_ , what am I doing? Being weird, that’s what. You probably have a boyfriend. If you can hear me, I’m sorry. I don’t normally creep on sleeping women. _Oh my_ _god_ , that sounds even worse. Sorry.” Beca’s a little worried that the woman heard all that, but the redhead just scrunches up her nose like a puppy and sniffs.

It’s adorable. Absolutely adorable.

Beca tries not to think of how nice it would be to wake up with the redhead beside her every morning, their legs tangled together. Nope, she _definitely_ doesn’t think of that.

The woman stirs then, shifting in her sleep. Beca watches as she begins to wake up, her eyes fluttering open slowly. Yawning, the redhead stretches her legs out before pushing herself up into a sitting position. She rubs her eyes and smiles lazily.

“Where am I?” She asks calmly but curiously. Clearly she has no idea, and Beca’s surprised rhat she’s not freaking out. If she woke up in a random place with a stranger sat next to her on a bed, she’d start screaming.

“The mattress store,” Beca tells her, watching closely for a reaction.

“What? I fell asleep? _Shit!_ What’s the time?” The redhead’s eyes widen, and she looks around frantically, gaze landing on the big clock above the pay desk. “It’s 7:30PM! Don’t you shut at 7? Shit, did I keep you? I am _so_ sorry!”

“Dude, chill, it’s cool. I didn’t wanna wake you because I know I hate being woken when I’m asleep so…” Beca trails off with a shrug, her cheeks heating up when the woman smiles. Damn that gorgeous smile.

“Are you sure? I feel so bad! I can imagine you just want to get home! Working here must be _such a drag!_ ” The redhead’s words are quickly spoken and laced with an underlying enthusiasm that Beca secretly finds adorable.

“Hey, it’s cool. I didn’t mind staying,” Beca assures, smiling softly at the woman before her.

“Oh! I’m Chloe by the way!”

“I’m Beca, nice to meet you.”

“Wanna go for a coffee sometime?” Chloe asks confidently, winking cheekily. Beca blushes and nods, unable to find the words to compose a full sentence. “Sorry again!”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Beca repeats with a small shake of her head.

And then Chloe‘s eyes lock with hers, and she feels her stomach flop. Yeah, she may have a thing for the random woman she found asleep on a mattress. But that’s fine, right?


	23. spin the bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #23:  
> Heyyy so i have a prompt: High school AU in which Chloe is a popular cheerleader and Beca has had a huge girl-crush on her since her first year. They end up at a party and get drunk and play spin the bottle and have to kiss but they actually like it so much that they start dating?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt written for an ask on tumblr :)

Beca has no idea why she’s at the house party. She doesn’t want to be here at all, but Stacie’s so persuasive and her only plans for the evening were wallowing in her room writing songs about Chloe Beale, the popular cheerleader she’s loved for two years. The only problem is, she’s a scrawny nobody, and Chloe is the girl _everyone_ has a crush on. She’s one in a hundred. So naturally, Beca knows she has absolutely no chance.

She’s in skinny jeans and a plaid shirt (she literally owns nothing else), with her signature ear spikes in place. Her thick eyeliner clearly sends out the “fuck off” vibe she was going for, which is a small victory. As she stands, huddled in a corner of the room clutching a plastic up of beer, Stacie — albeit a very drunk Stacie — approaches her.

“Becaaaaa,” the tall brunette slurs, grabbing Beca’s wrists tightly, pulling her closer so their chests bump lightly. Beca winces at the smell of alcohol on her best friend’s breath.

“What do you want, Stace?” Beca pushes Stacie back, still very much in need of her personal space. The drunk girl stumbles, and Beca’s hands shoot out to steady her.

“Come play ‘Spin the Bottle’!” Beca begins to shake her head before she’s even able to speak. There’s _no way_ she’s playing that godawful game. It’s practically asking for trouble.

“No Stacie, absolutely not.”

“But Becssssss,” the tall brunette begs, her bottom lip jutting out like a sad puppy. She knows Beca can’t resist that face, so she makes sure it’s extra soft and adorable.

“Fuck you,” Beca spits, chugging the rest of her beer down in one before she grabs Stacie’s arm. She’s slightly tipsy, she’ll admit, and the alcohol definitely has a lot to do with the fact she just agreed to play ‘Spin the Bottle’.

“Yay!” Beca’s dragged into the centre of the living room, where a bunch of drunk students are gathered, all sat in a circle on the flood. The brunette’s heart skips a beat as she spots the one and only, Chloe Beale. _Shit_.

“No Stace, absolutely not.” She can’t play when Chloe’s there. She can’t. Not when the redhead is smiling dopily like that, her baby blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“Why did you change your mind?” Stacie pouts again, but Beca’s not looking. She can’t take her eyes off the cheerleader, who’s talking and laughing with her best friend Aubrey. Jealousy writhes inside Beca’s stomach. She’s always wondered if they’d been a little more than “just friends”.

“Chloe fucking Beale, that’s what!” Beca hisses, her eyes wide and panicked as she tears her eyes from the redhead to look at her friend.

“Oh…”

“Exactly!” Stacie knows how much Beca pines over Chloe. She’s read most of the sad love songs, and some of Beca’s diary entries. Stacie knows how much it pains the brunette to watch from afar, knowing nothing will ever happen. It’s not like Chloe even knows her name. She’s a nobody to the cheerleader.

“Bec, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Please,” Stacie pleads, clasping Beca’s hands tightly in her own.

“Fine.” Beca snatches her hands away and grabs the nearest bottle of vodka. She takes a swig, not even wincing as the burning liquid slides down her throat. Slamming the bottle back onto the table, she marches over to the circle, leaving a shocked Stacie staring at her, open-mouthed.

* * *

The game begins innocently enough. Beca’s only kissed one person so far; this fuckboy called Jason. Most of the girls have a crush on him, and she was sent more than a few jealous glares once she’d pecked him on the lips. Beca really doesn’t understand the hype. Sure, he looks decent, but his personality is literally non-existent; there’s no appeal there whatsoever.

But then it’s Chloe’s turn to spin the bottle, and Beca suddenly can’t breathe. She watches, frozen as the beer bottle spins and spins and spinds until it comes to a gradual stop. On her.

Fucking hell. _No way_. No way does she have to kiss Chloe Beale. Beca’s dreamed of kissing the redhead, but not like this, never like this. Not while they’re both drunk at a party and they have to. Chloe probably doesn’t even want to. Hell, the redhead probably doesn’t even know who she’s kissing. She’s just a nobody.

Beca feels sick. She doesn’t even want to kiss Chloe anymore. She considers leaving, getting up and walking away right then and there, but she’s frozen, unable to move. Chloe beams and shuffles towards her, bright eyes glistening.

Before Beca knows what’s happening, pink lips are pressing onto hers firmly. The brunette’s head begins to spin, and she gets lost in the kiss, the alcohol taking over.

Chloe’s tongue slides forcefully into her mouth, their lips sliding over each other. Beca lets out a small moan as the redhead’s lips trail to her jawline, kissing and nipping at the skin. Her head tips back to allow better access to her neck, moaning loudly as Chloe sucks at her pulse point.

They’re oblivious to the loud cheering coming from the rest of the players, only focusing on themselves and the kiss. Chloe moves onto Beca’s lap, wrapping her legs around the small brunette’s torso.

When air becomes a necessity, they break away reluctantly, both flushed and swollen-lipped. “Wow, Beca,” Chloe whispers, brushing her thumb over thin lips again and again.

“You know my name?” Beca’s eyes and wide and eager, her pupils dilating as she stares at her crush. She has no idea what the fuck just happened.

“Of course I do.” Chloe giggles. “Date me?”

“What? I mean yes, of course, but… why?” Beca’s beyond confused; why does Chloe Beale want to date her, of all people? She didn’t even know Chloe knew her name, let alone liked her.

“Explanation later, kissing now,” the redhead insists as she slams her lips back onto Beca’s.

Beca can’t agree more.


	24. exhausted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #24:  
> a letter beca wrote to chloe, explaining the pain of chronic migraines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this to try and release some frustration. i suffer with chronic migraines, and well, it sucks. the fic explains it, i guess. i’m just so tired of it and i needed to write it down, so i wrote it as a fic. enjoy i guess.
> 
> tw: chronic pain, implied suicide

Chloe,

I don’t know if I can carry on anymore. It’s too hard, the migraines are too bad. When trying to explain chronic pain, people never understand, because they just don’t. You’re so sweet, every day, taking care of me, but — and I hate to say this — it’s not enough. I want it to be, _god_ , do I want it to be enough. But it’s not. I can’t… I can’t pretend it is.

Bringing me water and blankets and encouraging me to nibble on dry crackers when I feel sick are only aids, small things that don’t really help. I appreciate you so, so much, never forget that. And I don’t blame you one single bit, but I can’t act like being taken care of helps the pain, because it doesn’t.

You know I’ve exhausted medication after medication. I’ve been through countless things I can’t even remember. Both natural and medical remedies. I’m tired of swallowing pill after pill, desperate for something, _anything_ to work. Every day I spend willing away the hours until I can take yet another two pills, swallowing them down with a sip of water, hoping they’ll do something.

I’ve missed countless classes, instead spending the time lying in a dark room, willing the hours away. I can’t even mix anymore, Chlo. I’m too sensitive to light and noise and even if I’m able to bear the sound of the music, I can’t think well enough to actually do the mixing. I could try and explain my frustration, how fucking upset it makes me. I’ve wanted to throw my laptop at my wall more times than I can count.

I’m exhausted. I feel like a draining battery, searching helplessly in the dark for a charger. I can never find one. The life is slowly seeping out of me day by day, and I can’t escape it. It’s so hard. I just want to be able to smile, be able to come out with you and The Bellas again. But I can’t because of my fucking head.

Do you know how hard it is to be working, and suddenly find you can no longer read the words, and your fingers won’t cooperate properly? When your pen just drops from your grip, and your vision shifts and tilts on its side. Do you know what it’s like to be walking, and suddenly stumble, a wave of dizziness and nausea washing over you like tsunami? Do you know what it’s like to think things, but not be able to say them? To begin a sentence and then just trail off, unable to form the words to finish it? Do you know what it’s like to stare and a piece of work in front of you and just have no fucking clue what any of it means? When you know you know, but you just can’t think?

I know you don’t know. I’m just… I don’t know what else to do. It’s never ending. I try not to give up because giving up is for cowards. If I’m to spend every day in bed for the foreseeable future, what’s my quality of life? I can’t do the things I love, or spend time with the people that matter to me. Instead I’m stuck, wishing for something that will never happen.

 _God_ , Chlo, it’s _endless_. I feel like I’m falling, down down down into a bottomless pit. And every day I fall just a little bit further. I’m lost, in the dark. I can’t see anything, I’m just there, fumbling around like an idiot.

I don’t want to give up, but giving up is my only option. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t. I’m sorry to just dump all this on your shoulders; it’s selfish of me. But I need someone to at least try and understand. I feel like I’m going to scream if one more person tells me that “tomorrow’s another day”. Another day I’m going to have a fucking migraine, that’s what. I just don’t know anymore. I want out, Chlo. I don’t want to live this life anymore. Help me.

I’m sorry,

Beca <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if you ever wondered what having a migraine every day was like, now you know. stay safe everyone, and seriously, if you’re a healthy person, be grateful for it, because shit can change and it fucking sucks. ☹️


	25. not your fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #25:  
> “the walls in this apartment building are really thin and i can hear you having mental breakdowns all the time are you okay?” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesse isn’t actually named but the guy beca talks about is him. he’s actually a pretty good guy in the movies, but he’s a dick in this *shrugs*

Chloe winces as, what she guesses is a chair, hits the wall. It’s the third time her neighbour has had some kind of mental breakdown this _week_ , and it’s _Thursday_.

CRASH.

The sound of splintering wood rushes through the wall, and Chloe throws down her book, the story forgotten. The walls between the two apartments are thin, and the she really can’t concentrate if the alt girl next door keeps throwing stuff around.

Who the fuck is doing this to her?

Chloe doesn’t like to see people hurting. She spreads love, light, warmth, and never hurt. She’s soft and harmless and hates to see people in pain. And from the crash of yet another chair against the wall, Chloe knows that the girl is most _definitely_ hurting about something.

It’s with this in mind that Chloe leaves her apartment, slipping her key into her pocket. She walks the short few metres it takes to get her in front of her neighbours door. Raising a hand, she knocks tentatively.

The redhead wasn’t so stupid as to forget to bring something to help; freshly baked cookies. She’d made them just this afternoon, and brought them as a kind of peace offering. A “please stop throwing things at the wall are you okay do you want some cookies” kind of offering.

Seconds later, the crashing ceases, and the door is yanked open. The woman that pokes her head round is clearly distressed; tears tracks glisten on her flushed cheeks, her eyes red and puffy, her hair a mess.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is gruff but almost soft, nervous. Chloe smiles at her, a wide, toothy smile that coaxes a small smirk from the brunette before her.

“I brought you cookies,” the redhead says, thrusting the box out in front of her. “Are you okay? I heard crashing and it’s the third time this week so…”

“You can hear it?”

“Well, yeah. The walls are really thin, and we do live next door to each other.” Chloe watches as the girl shrinks in on herself, hastily wiping away her tears.

“I’m so sorry,” the brunette mumbles, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

“It’s okay! Do you want to talk? I’m Chloe!” The redhead can sense the girl is a little skittish, worried about something, but she doesn’t want to push. She knows she’s a great listener, and always cheers her friends up when they’re upset. She just wants to help.

“I’m Beca.” The girl stares down at her hands, rubbing the skin between her thumb on her left hand with the fingers on her right. It seems it’s a kind of nervous habit; there’s a purple bruise there, and the skin looks raw.

“Look, I know you may not want to spill your guts to me, which is totes fine, but can I at least offer you some support? I could help you tidy up, or something? I just want to help you,” Chloe explains, frowning slightly. She isn’t used to her help being refused, or for people to hesitate when taking it.

“No, it’s… Uh, actually, would you mind helping me tidy up?” Beca doesn’t know why she suddenly changes her mind, but Chloe‘s staring at her so kindly, with such warmth, that she can’t refuse.

“Of course!”

* * *

Half an hour later, the apartment is tidy. Two chairs, three plates and six glasses were broken, and hence were thrown in the trash, but the other chair was salvageable, so that stayed.

Beca’s sat on her couch, staring blankly into space as Chloe makes them both a coffee. The brunette had stayed mostly silent during the clear up, only answering direct questions and muttering words of thanks every few minutes. Chloe had never seen someone appear so lost, so in despair.

“Here, drink this,” the redhead says, pushing a large mug into Beca’s hands. The brunette turns to look at her with big, shiny eyes, and Chloe offers a small smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Um, not really, but I think I should.”

“You don’t have to. Please don’t think you do, just because I asked.”

“No, I want to,” Beca decides firmly, grasping her mug tightly in both hands as she turns to look at Chloe properly.

“Then I’m here to listen,” Chloe assures, smiling softly. She pulls her legs up onto the couch, tucking them underneath her. Beca’s eyes bore into hers, the worry and tinge of fear dancing across the navy orbs.

“It’s my boyfriend. He’s… he hasn’t hurt me,” Beca says quickly, noticing the concern on Chloe’s face. She unconsciously shifts closer to the redhead, the comfort of her presence drawing her closer. “It’s not working out at the moment, and he keeps getting angry. I have this internship at a record company, and my boss said he’d give me a chance to prove I could produce something original. I’ve been trying, but I can’t seem to do it right. Hence why I’ve been spending so much time in front of my laptop.” Beca pauses, taking a deep breath. Emotion wells up inside her, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Chloe places a hand on her forearm, rubbing soothing circles on the skin.

“On Monday he… he snapped. He just got so mad and it scared me. I… He grabbed my arm and told me I wasn’t spending enough time with him,” Beca recalls, pressing a hand to the bridge of her nose as she tries to keep her emotions in check. “I told him that if he was going to get mad at me for not being able to work this thing out, then we were done. He didn’t like it. He slapped me, and then I left.

“I’ve been throwing stuff around because I still can’t work out something original that my boss will like, and I’m so frustrated at myself. My boyfriend, _ex-_ boyfriend, hates me, and I can’t even do my job right.”

Chloe’s outraged by the time Beca finishes, her cheeks flushed with anger. How _dare_ someone hurt such a sweet girl for taking her shot? How dare he? But, since she’s there to be comforting, the redhead pulls Beca into her arms and hugs her tightly.

The brunette is tense at first, her arms firmly by her sides, but after a couple of minutes, her body relaxes and she wraps her arms around Chloe’s waist. She buries her head in the crook of the redhead’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Chloe whispered, squeezing Beca even tighter in her arms.

“It’s my fault,” the brunette replies, tears leaking from her eyes. She looks back up at Chloe and smiles weakly. “If I hadn’t—“

“No,” Chloe interrupts. “This is not your fault. You were taking your shot, trying to get this right, and he didn’t respect that. This is on him. No way is this on you. Please don’t think that.”

“I guess…”

“Come on, let’s order pizza and watch a movie,” Chloe suggests, already reaching for the phone lying on the couch.

“Can we watch a TV show instead? I’m not a fan of movies.” Beca looks apprehensive as she waits for Chloe’s response, and the redhead guesses that her boyfriend had been a bit of a movie-lover.

“Of course.” The brunette relaxes once again, leaning back into the couch as Chloe dials and orders two pizzas.

Beca thinks her life may not be so shit anymore. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she still hasn’t worked out a song for her boss, but she’s made a new friend, and that’s even better.


	26. kicked out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #26:  
> “you found out i live outta my car and now you’re always buying me lunch and shit” au

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, please.”

Beca’s head snaps up to see a pretty ginger barista standing next to her, smiling apologetically. She fumbles with the old iPod clutched in her hands, watching helplessly as it slips and falls to the tiled floor. A small gasp escapes the lips of the barista, and she bends down to pick it up.

“It’s not cracked,” she says softly, holding it out for Beca to take. With a trembling hand, the brunette accepts the iPod and stuffs it quickly into the pocket of her jacket.

“Uh, thanks.” Beca twists her head round and smiles weakly at the redhead, her eyes dull behind the facade. “Um, why do I have to leave?”

“You don’t have a drink, Miss. If you buy one you can stay, but otherwise it’s policy that I ask you to leave.” The redhead sounds reluctant as she speaks, her brows furrowing slightly.

Beca looks down at her hands, staring at the dirt in her nails, at the mud in the creases of her skin. Her hands are rough, dry from the biting cold outside.

“Miss? Would you like to buy a drink?” The barista touches her shoulder lightly, trying to catch her attention. Beca flinches involuntarily at the innocent touch, recoiling under the warm hand of the woman. She has just $5 in her pocket, and only $100 in her car. That $100 has to last her till… well, indefinitely.

She definitely can’t afford a drink.

“No, I’m good thanks.” The redhead shoots her one last smile before gliding away, already grinning warmly at the next customer.

Beca rises from her chair, pulling her jacket round herself tightly as she leaves, the cold January wind washing over her like a wave. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, the small woman makes her way to the carpark. She figures she may as well spend the night there; it’s not like she has anywhere else to go.

Once she’s safely in her car, she slips on some thick gloves and pulls out a book. She can’t afford to keep running the heater, so she has to make do with the array of fleecy gloves she snagged before leaving.

Settling back into her chair, blanket pulled up around her waist, she begins to read.

* * *

Chloe hums along to her music as she puts the broom away and does a final checkup of the cafe. Once done, she grabs a few mini meals from the refrigerator (she may as well, since they’re free for her), and heads out to the carpark.

As she’s about to get in, she notices what looks like the brunette from earlier, sitting in her car. Frowning, she squints her eyes to try and see better in the already fading light.

After grabbing her bag and locking her car, she moves closer, unable to help herself. She soon establishes that it is the woman from earlier, holding up a torch as she reads from a book.

Chloe taps on the window, curiosity shining in her eyes. The woman jumps, shocked at the sound and whips her head to the side. Her shoulders sag when she sees it’s only the barista, and she rolls down the window.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe asks, scrunching to her nose. “Why didn’t you go home when you left?” It’s then that the redhead looks past the brunette and into the back of the car, eyes scanning over the pillow and sleeping bag folded neatly on one seat.

“This is my home,” Beca admits, shrugging lightly. She acts like she doesn’t care, like it doesn’t bother her one bit that she was kicked out by her homophobic father, but she does, _of course she does_. How could she not? Her _own father_ , ashamed of her.

“You live in your car? Why?” Chloe’s more confused than anything. There’s obviously a reason behind it; no one would just randomly decide to live in their car, no matter how strange they are.

“I have to. I was kicked out.” The words are accompanied by another shrug, but this time pain flashes across the brunette’s dark eyes, as though she’s transported back to when it happened.

“Do you have enough money? Enough food? God, and your back. You must be so uncomfortable!” Chloe presses a hand to her chest in sympathy, her baby blue eyes twinkling sadly. She doesn’t know this woman, but she knows she wants to help her.

Beca hesitates. Does she admit that she’s struggling? Or does she keep up the facade she’s spent so long trying to perfect.

She decides to go with honesty.

It definitely has nothing to do with the fact the redhead is absolutely stunning, or the fact those bright blue eyes are slightly hypnotising.

“I… kind of? I have $105,” she confesses quietly, fiddling with the corner of her page so she doesn’t have to look at the woman looking in through her window.

“That’s barely anything! Here, I grabbed a few salads from the cafe. Please, have one.” Chloe thrusts a salad into Beca’s hands through the window. It’s a chicken chaser salad. Salad has never been Beca’s favourite, but she’s starving so anything looks delicious. The chicken is a plus.

“Thank you,” the brunette says sincerely, offering a small smile to at the redhead.

“Oh my god, it’s no problem! I want to help you more! Do you want to come back to my place?” Chloe pauses, staring almost pleadingly at Beca.

“Y-Yes I’d… I’d like that. I don’t want to intrude or anything… I haven’t slept in a bed in months and my back is killing me, so if you’ll have me, I’ll gladly accept the offer.” It takes a lot for Beca to accept the help, but the offer was just _there_ , like bait on the end of a fishing line.

“Of course!” Chloe grins, pleased at the news. “I forgot to introduce myself, how silly of me! I’m Chloe.”

“And I’m Beca.”

Beca stares up at the redhead, wondering what the hell she’s getting herself into.


	27. shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #27:  
> “you live in the apartment above me and everyday i can hear you singing in the shower but you’re really good and it makes my day” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh this one’s pretty short sorry

Beca rolls out of bed, groaning quietly. She’s already hit snoozed one too many times, and she’s almost certain she’s going to be late if she doesn’t hurry her ass up. The duvet falls on top of her as her body hits the floor, coating her in a blanket of warmth. It’s really not helpful because she _really_ needs to get up and have a shower.

Grumbling under her breath, she kicks the only source of heat off her body and crawls, literally, across her apartment and over to her bathroom. She reluctantly heaves herself up off the floor with the support of her sink, and grabs her towel and shower gel.

After slowly peeling her pajamas from her body – she really did try to be fast, but it just wasn’t working out for her – she turns the shower on and steps under it’s lukewarm spray. The shower in her apartment is absolutely shitty, but she can’t get a replacement because “it still works”, according to her asshole of a landlord.

Beca wonders if she’ll be privy to her neighbour’s daily morning singing session. She supposes that the woman above her wouldn’t really be considered as a neighbour? What even counts as a neighbour? _Anyway_ , the woman above her, neighbour or not, likes to sing in the shower.

And fuck is she good.

The woman sings a whole range of things: R&B, pop, country, blues, and she even raps on the odd occasion. Over the past months, Beca’s come to the conclusion that the song tends to reflect the woman’s mood, which tends to be extremely chirpy.

Beca hasn’t forgotten the few times the woman had belted out a few “heartbreaker” songs, clearly after a breakup. They had only lasted three days, so the brunette assumes the guy wasn’t that important to her.

She wonders if the woman has had her shower yet, or if she’s already left for work. Since she’s late, she assumes she’s missed the daily session. Although she hates to admit it, Beca loves hearing the woman sing. Her voice is positively _angelic_ , and she _loves_ it.

The gorgeous singing never fails to brighten her morning (or sometimes evening), no matter how grouchy she is. If she’s missed this morning’s session, which she thinks she has, her day will be decidedly worse than it would have been had she been up on time.

But then the first line of _Titanium_ filters through the ceiling, and she can’t fight the smile that stretches across her lips. She mouths the lyrics along with the sweet voice that sings them, now feeling a little better about the late start to her day.

And, as she stands under the barely warm water of her shower, Beca wonders if she’ll ever meet the woman that never fails to brighten her day.


	28. fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #28:  
> “i got in a fight and you took me to the ER but you should see the other guy” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just assume they’re at the ER or something because it’s literally not mentioned once ahah
> 
> tw: mild violence

“Beca! What the fuck?”

Beca’s first thought is _jesus, Chloe Beale swearing?_ and her second is _why the fuck is she mad?_ which says a lot about where her mind is right now. But then she remembers that her knuckles are bruised and bloody, her lip is split and she probably has a nice mark on her cheek. (She only knows that because of the aching throb pulsating there.)

Chloe’s fingers snap in front of her face, jolting her from her trance. “What were you thinking?” The redhead’s hair is unusually wild, her eyes a little brighter than usual, not to mention the glistening tear tracks carved into her flushed cheeks. Beca understands her concern (she doesn’t really), but damn, if Chloe thinks she looks bad she should see the other guy.

“Chloe, I’m fine,” Beca assures, gripping her girlfriend’s hand tightly with her uninjured hand. The touch seems to ground the redhead; her eyes stop frantically flitting over the brunette’s body and come to rest on her face.

“Beca, you’re not _fine!_ You’re injured!” Fresh tears spill over and run down Chloe’s cheeks, and Beca can’t fight the urge to roll her eyes. She doesn’t give a flying fuck about how hurt she is. What she does care about, however, is that the other guy has learnt his lesson. That’s all that matters to her.

“Chlo, my health is not important in this situation.”

“What do you mean your health is _“not important”_ are you fucking mental?” Chloe’s absolutely seething, her eyes wild again. She jerks her hand out of Beca’s grasp and clasps it in her other hand, squeezing them together tightly.

Beca winces, because clearly that had been the wrong thing to say. Blowing out a deep breath, she drops her gaze down to her lap as she tries to think of the best way to approach the situation. She comes up with exactly nothing.

“Why did you even get into this fight in the first place?” When Beca looks back up, Chloe seems to have calmed a little. Silent tears are still streaming down her cheeks, but she’s standing still, staring directly at Beca, which is both reassuring and scary at the same time.

Beca draws her bottom lip into her teeth anxiously, thinking back to exactly why the fight started in the first place.

* * *

_“Hey Mitchell,” the boy yells, cupping his hands to his mouth from across the courtyard. Beca turns round quickly, frowning at the sound. She spots Tom, Chloe’s ex, smoking with his gang (or so he calls it).  
_

_She ignores him because he’s a dick — she definitely hasn’t forgotten the time he slapped Chloe because she didn’t want to have sex with him. Thank god he hadn’t gone further than that._

_He approaches her, followed by his friends, throwing their cigarettes to the ground as they come nearer. Tom cracks his knuckles, clearly meant to intimidate, but Beca just smirks. She’ll be able to knock him out in one hit._

_But he doesn’t need to know that._

_“Did I ever tell you Chloe was a slut?” He asks, snickering. Beca clenches her jaw and grinds her teeth together as her hands curl into fists._

_“Don’t you dare talk about her like that,” she growls, stepping forward menacingly. She may be small, but she’s had the “angry glare” mastered since she was six, so she’s pretty good at it now. Tom looks a little put out for a fraction of a second, before his false bravado falls back into place._

_“What? Are you going to pwotect her?” He mocks in his best baby voice, raising his fingers into air quotes at the same time. His friends laugh, seemingly because they’re too scared to do anything else, and laughter seems like an appropriate reaction to his words._

_Beca wants to be able to just walk away, she really does. She’s been better at just ‘walking away’ recently, all thanks to Chloe. She’s learnt to pick and choose her battles, and recognise when one isn’t worth fighting. And she knows that if Chloe were here, she’d be whispering soothing words under her breath while gently tugging her away._

_But Chloe isn’t here, and Beca thinks this is the perfect chance to finally get back at Tom for all the shit he’s pulled. He deserves to be punished, so that’s what she’s going to do; punish him._

_Before she can really think about what she’s doing, her right arm is swinging back and suddenly her fist is slamming into Tom’s cheekbone, the force of the hit sending him stumbling back. She smirks, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Although she’d never admit it, especially not to Chloe, she loves the rush a good fight gives her._

_Tom swings his own fist at her, managing to bust her lip and catch her cheek at the same time. Beca barely registers the blood on her lips as her foot slams into Tom’s stomach. He falls to the floor, knees first, arms wrapped around his torso._

_The brunette grins as she kicks his ribs, over and over and over, in revenge for all the things he’s said and done to Chloe. For the time he slapped her, for all the times he’s tried to force himself upon her, for all the horrible things he’s said._

_Beca doesn’t stop till tears are leaking from his eyes and he’s begging her to stop. With one last kick to his ribs, and an “accidental” encounter between his hand and the heel of her boot, she leaves._

_She feels victorious, her minor injuries worth all the damage she did to Tom. He deserved everything he got, and she doesn’t regret it one bit._

* * *

“It was Tom,” Beca confesses quietly. She ignores the small gasp from Chloe, because she knew it was coming. The redhead always tells her not to get involved when it comes to Tom, but without Chloe there to pull her away, Beca had been unable to resist temptation.

“Beca what were you thinking?” Chloe demands, brow furrowed deeply. Beca recognises the expression as her “I understand what you’re saying but I’m confused” face; she knows it all too well.

“He was saying stuff, Chlo!”

“What stuff?”

Beca knows that when she tells Chloe why she lashed out at Tom, the girl will get annoyed. It’s inevitable. Too many times Beca has been dragged away from the boy, two seconds away from smashing his face in. No matter what she says, or how she phrases it, Chloe will scold her. “About you...” she confesses quietly, staring down at her hands.

“Beca! You should have just left it. It doesn’t matter what he says about me,” Chloe insists, her stomach twisting. Beca’s hurt because of words spoken about her. Knowing that makes her feel shitty.

“But he was being mean! And he deserved it. I don’t regret it one bit. If you think I’m hurt, you should see him.” Beca smirks proudly at the last sentence, still extremely happy with how the fight turned out.

“But Becs, I don’t want you to get hurt. You scared me so much. _Please_ don’t go around fighting Tom.” It’s a desperate plea hidden within soft, earnestly spoken words, and Beca can’t help but melt.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It won’t happen again. I know how much you care.” It took a long time for Beca to accept Chloe’s concerns for her, to accept that people actually cared for her wellbeing. But now that she accepts it, now that she understands, it feels a whole lot worse.

“Thank you, Bec,” Chloe replies gratefully, pressing a tender kiss to Beca’s temple.


	29. dipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #29:  
> “you tripped and i caught you but now it looks like i’m dipping you, how did this even-“ au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of panic attacks

Beca has a slight problem. Okay, that’s a lie. It’s a rather big problem. She’s not dying, injured or ill, and doesn’t even have the slightest hint of a headache. No, her problem is not physical. Her problem is bigger than that, it comes from deep within, twisting her stomach, causing her palms to sweat.

She’s anxious. That’s her problem.

She’s struggled with it all her life, especially since her father left, and then again when her mother died. And now she’s a mess, regularly.

She hasn’t told anyone because she hates to draw attention to herself, hates to know people are watching, concerned, as she tries desperately to calm her erratic breathing.

So it’s a secret, and not even Chloe Beale, Beca’s best friend and possible (definite) crush knows. But the reason the redhead doesn’t know isn’t because Beca wants to keep it a secret. It’s because Chloe Beale makes her problem worse.

It’s not that Chloe’s mean to her, or that she scares Beca. The problem simply is her presence. When Chloe’s around, Beca’s a mess, tripping and stumbling over everything possible. Her palms sweat uncontrollably, and her temperature raises by at least 2°F.

She tries to control it, she really does. She’s fine when it’s just her and Chloe, weirdly enough. She’s fine when they’re cuddled up watching a movie. She’s even fine when Chloe presses “friendly” kisses to her cheeks.

But she’s not fine in front of other people. She can’t help but worry about what they think. Logically, she knows she has absolutely nothing to worry about. She’s not oblivious to the way The Bellas sneakily snap pictures of her and Chloe when they’re cuddling, uploading them to their ‘ _#Bechloe’_ group chat with a caption like _“married af!”_ or _“OMG ADORABLE”._

But since when has anxiety ever been logical?

She still finds herself fumbling over her shoes at practice, clicking on the wrong mixes if Chloe’s standing with her. She can’t help the way her palms sweat whenever Chloe brushes her hands absentmindedly through her hair, saying _“Becs! Your hair is so soft!”_

Only when they’re alone can she relax into the redhead’s safe, warm embrace, allowing herself to bury her head in the girl’s soft neck.

It’s one of those days again, when she can’t quite calm the wild beating of her heart. She’s not even with Chloe; she’s alone, just entering the house after her shift at the radio station.

It’s thought of seeing Chloe that makes her all nervous like this.

It’s once she’s hung up her coat that she trips, slipping on the floor as she turns round. Her arms are flailing, a small scream escaping her lips as the laminate flooring rushes up to meet her.

But the impact never comes.

She opens her eyes (she’d closed them out of fear), and finds herself trapped in Chloe’s embrace. The redhead is holding her loosely, a triumphant grin on her face, and Beca realises why. Chloe’s _dipping her_. As in, the romantic manoeuvre that appears in dancing.

 _Shit_.

Her face quickly colours, heat rushing to her cheeks as she clears her throat and regains her footing. But obviously this doesn’t happen after the telltale click of a camera, because of course The Bellas had caught the moment.

It’s uploaded to their group chat with the caption _“HOW HAVE THEY NOT FUCKED YET”_ (courtesy of Amy). It’s of course responded to with a shocked _“AMY!!!”_ from Aubrey, and a sly _“how do we know they haven’t? ;)”_ from Stacie.

Beca and Chloe are left staring at each other nervously, both unsure of what to say. “Um, sorry,” Beca mumbles, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad I caught you,” Chloe says softly, winking. The brunette chokes on her breath, her cheeks becoming even more red under Chloe’s almost curious gaze. “You okay?”

“Mhm, fine,” Beca squeaks, pressing a palm to one cheek to try and cool it down.

She’s definitely not fine.


	30. chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #30:  
> “you always bring food to lectures and share it with me because you don’t want to be the only person eating” college au

“Hey, do you want some of my chocolate? It’s homemade!” Chloe whispers, thrusting the bag out towards Beca. She’s smiling, her eyes bright and hopeful and everything Beca hates. (She’s still in denial, okay?)

“Dude, who the fuck makes their own chocolate?!” She hisses back, reaching in to grab a thick chunk despite her mocking. Okay, she has to admit it looks and smells amazing. Perhaps she should give Chloe Beale a little more credit for her culinary skills.

Chloe always brings food to their Modern History lecture. They both hate the class (naturally), so the redhead brings food, something new every week. And she shares it with Beca. Something about “not wanting to be the only one eating”, but they both know it’s more than that.

Chloe ignores the fact she loves to watch Beca’s face light up as she eats the new treats. Beca ignores the way Chloe beams at her in that stupid way whenever she receives praise for her creations.

You could say they’re friends.

They have separate groups of friends, and don’t talk outside their bi-weekly lecture. (Okay, Chloe has a group of friends. Beca just tends to hide in the library mixing, avoiding all human contact.) They have each other’s phone numbers, but that’s it. Their messages mainly consist of Chloe asking Beca if she wants to hang out — to which the brunette politely declines — or Beca asking the redhead for notes from the lecture.

Beca thinks the whole situation is rather good. She gets delicious homemade food without the commitment of a friendship. Except they’re kind of friends. Maybe. Sort of. _Possibly_.

Ignoring all thoughts of friendship between her and Chloe Beale, Beca stops examining the chocolate and puts it into her mouth. Chloe had once told her that the proper way to taste chocolate was to chew once, then let it sit on her tongue so “the flavours spread out and melt everywhere”.

Beca had scoffed and told her it was lame, calling her a weirdo. Chloe had just grinned and thanked her as though she’d just been told she was the most beautiful girl in the world. (Which she is, to Beca.)

Despite her mocking and ridiculing of Chloe’s chocolate tasting method, Beca had once tried it, and found it to be rather exceptional. And since then, she always eats chocolate like that. Not that Chloe knows that, of course.

Chloe watches her expectantly, waiting for Beca’s verdict on the homemade square of goodness. The brunette sucks gently, unable to help the moan that escapes her lips as rich chocolate fills her mouth, her taste buds exploding.

Thankfully their lecturer doesn’t notice — he’s an ass, he never does — and Beca gives Chloe a sincere thumbs up. Once she’s done, she leans forward in her seat, smirking.

“That was _incredible_ ,” she says honestly, already craving another chunk. God, it’s just _so good_. “Dude, you’re a seriously skilled baker. Do you wanna be a chef or something?”

In a split second, Chloe’s face falls. Her triumphant grin is gone, replaced with a downcast expression of sorrow.

“Uh, are you okay?” Beca asks tentatively, placing a hand on Chloe’s forearm. She has no idea how to go about comforting people (her deprivation of human contact as a child has made her extremely socially awkward), but she already knows that she hates to see Chloe upset. And this is the first time it’s ever happened.

Beca knows they only see each other twice a week, and she’s not at all involved in Chloe’s life at all, it’s still weird to see the permenant smile transformed into a frown.

“My parents think that baking is just a hobby for me. They don’t approve with my wishes to pursue it as a career,” Chloe explains quietly, the words flat, devoid of emotion. It’s scary to see the bubbly girl like this, and Beca knows she definitely hates it.

“Well they’re pieces of shit,” the brunette blurts before she can stop herself. _Stupid mouth_. She tends to speak before she thinks when she’s annoyed; her mouth has betrayed her so many times before, so she’s really not surprised.

Chloe giggles, a gorgeous sound that slips past her lips and causes Beca’s heart to skip a beat. (Yep, she’s still in denial.)

“Can I have some more chocolate?” Beca asks, determined to get that dazzling smile back onto the redhead’s face. It’s been less than five minutes and she already misses it. How the fuck does she manage to go without seeing Chloe Beale for _five whole days_ a week?

Beca suddenly realises that she may or may not like a certain redhead, and she may or may not be sure that she can’t go a day without seeing her smile, the literal embodiment of the sun.

“Of course!” And there it is, the signature grin. Beca takes another piece of chocolate and performs her tasting ritual once more. She makes sure to praise Chloe just a little more that time, not even caring when her stomach flips over and over when the redhead touches her arm in thanks.

“Do you want to be friends?” Beca asks before she can stop herself. She wishes she had the courage to ask for a date, but she’s pretty sure Chloe’s straight, so she doesn’t. “Just friends” is a good place to start.

“We are friends, Becs!”

(Did Beca mention that Chloe is the _only_ one allowed to use a nickname?)

“I meant like… hanging out and stuff,” the brunette mumbles. Now she feels stupid for asking. What if Chloe says no? What if Chloe thinks she’s a weirdo? Who asks someone to be their friend? Someone who’s needy and—

“Oh my god! Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to accept my offers for so long. I can’t believe you finally did!” Chloe squeals excitedly, earning several annoyed glares from the students around them.

“I just realised how great you are,” Beca says, surprised at her honesty. She’s definitely not a confident person, and never one to wear her heart on her sleeve. So why is she suddenly a sap?

It’s Chloe Beale’s fault. It always is with things like this.


	31. terrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #31:  
> “my dog jumped all over you i’m so sorry i didn’t know you were afraid of dogs pls let me make it up to you” au

One minute Beca’s walking down the street, nodding her head gently along to the beat of her music, and the next she’s stumbling into the wall, a hairy thing jumping all over her.

Her first instinct is to scream, so she does.

It attracts attention, because despite her height, she has an extremely loud scream. She soon realises that the hairy thing attacking her is actually a dog, which makes everything a whole lot worse.

She _hates_ dogs. There’s no other way to describe her relationship with the hairy mammals. She simply _hates_ them. Her hatred for them may or may not be because she’s actually terrified of them, but no one needs to know that.

She supposes her fear is probably pretty obvious now that her arms are flailing and she’s trying to escape. But she’s backed into a wall and there’s nothing she can do to stop the dog’s assault.

As soon as feels a wet tongue on her cheek, she freezes, momentarily paralysed with fear. She doesn’t know what to do. She _can’t_ do anything.

So she does what anyone would probably do and just _stands there_ , eyes screwed tightly shut, willing the dog to just stop for at least one second.

“Oh my god I am _so sorry!_ ” A panicked voice breaks through Beca’s fear, and then hands are pulling the dog off her, allowing her to finally breathe once more.

She doesn’t reply, taking the time to press a hand to her chest to calm herself down. She hates being vulnerable in front of others, so she tries to shake the fear away quickly.

After a few seconds, she turns to the woman who’s now standing with her dog on its leash. She’s pretty and has gorgeous red hair and startling blue eyes. Beca ignores that, and instead focuses on sending a menacing glare towards the small dog.

It’s kind of embarrassing, actually. The dog is a fucking _terrier_. A tiny little terrier. So why the fuck had she been so scared? She shudders at the memory, and looks back up at the woman.

“Are you okay?” The redhead asks, frowning softly. She looks concerned, like she wants to reach out, but isn’t sure if she should. Beca’s glad she doesn’t.

“Yep, I’m fine,” she says quickly, and it isn’t really a lie. She‘s absolutely fine, not great, but fine.

“Hmm,” the woman hums, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. But then a warm smile is spreading across her lips and her eyes sparkle. “I’m so sorry! Billy isn’t usually like that.”

Beca can see how sorry the woman is. Her hands are fidgeting with the handle of the lead, despite her relatively calm expression. Beca knows it’s a telltale sign of nerves, because she does it herself.

“Dude, it’s okay,” she says, fiddling with the cord of her headphones. She forces her hands to still, realising she’s just started do to exactly the same thing as the redhead.

“Please, let me buy you a coffee to make up for it?”

Beca’s going to say no, she really is. But that’s until the woman beams at her, this soft smile full of laughter and hope. And now Beca cant even dream of turning down the offer.

“Sure.” She may be an awkward person, but she can make friends if she puts the effort in. (She hopes so, anyway. The last time she tried it was back in fifth grade, so she isn’t sure if it still works.)

“Awesome! You’re free now, right?” Chloe doesn’t stop smiling, and Beca’s previous plans of going shopping — for music, what else? — are thrown out of the window.

“Yeah, definitely,” she says, offering up a small smile of her own.

“Yay! Let’s go then,” Chloe squeals excitedly, beginning to walk down the street. Beca follows hurriedly, falling into step beside her. “Again, I’m sorry about Billy.”

“It’s cool, don’t worry.” Beca still glares at the dog whenever it looks at her, staying as far away from it as she can.

She may like Chloe, but she still hates the goddamn dog.


	32. bike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #32:  
> “dude what the hell you almost ran over me with your bike watch where you’re going dumba- woah you’re cute” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i wrote this ten minutes before i left for class so it’s super short and probably riddled with errors i’m sorry

Beca’s late. Really late. She supposes trying to tap out a quick text to her client to tell them she’s been “caught up in traffic” as she walks is practically asking for trouble. (It’s a total lie anyway, since she walks to work everyday unless it’s pouring with rain.) Everyone always says to “look where you’re going or you’ll get run over”, but Beca’s never really payed attention to any of it.

Now she wishes she had.

One minute she’s rushing down the road, eyes glued to her screen as her thumbs move furiously over the keyboard, and the next, she feels something crash into her side.

She stumbles to the left, into the side of a shop. Her phone slips from her grasp and onto the pavement, tugging her earbuds with it. Despite the throbbing pain in her side, Beca’s more concerned for her phone. She immediately dives down to pick it up, sighing with relief when she sees it’s okay.

And then she looks up, murderous glare already in place. How dare someone run into her? She’s late already. She definitely doesn’t need this. She has a client waiting, for fucks sake.

“Dude! You almost knocked me over! Watch where you’re going dumba—“ Beca begins, grumbling as she smoothes out her jacket.

But as she raises her head, she realises that the woman who’d run into her — on her bike — was actually rather pretty. Vibrant curls are twirled into a bun, and her bright eyes twinkle in the sunlight. Ugh, of course the woman looks like a fucking model.

“I am _so sorry!_ ” The woman interjects, stopping Beca from insulting her. Beca notices she looks extremely apologetic, her eyes shining with concern and guilt.

“No, it’s my fault too,” the brunette says, the genuine upset on the woman’s face softening her. Damn her and gorgeous face.

“Oh no it’s not! I ran into you,” the woman insists, her head shaking from side to side. Beca can feel the guilt radiating off the redhead in waves, and she feels bad. She does share half the blame. She’d been the one walking with her head down. She should have seen and moved out of the way.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Beca says, her voice surprisingly soft. She knows the minutes are ticking by, and she’s probably going to have to literally get down on her knees to please her waiting client, but none of that seems to matter right now.

“Is there anything I can do to apologise?” The woman looks so hopeful, and an idea immediately pops into Beca’s mind. She doesn’t like taking risks, and she doesn’t even like people, but things suddenly seem different in regards to the redhead.

“Coffee?”

“Oh my god! Of course!” The redhead squeals, and Beca thinks she may have made the right choice. Coffee it is. As friends, of course. _Just friends._ The woman is probably straight. _Totally_ straight. “Here’s my number.”

Beca looks down to see a number scrawled across the page, along with a name and a scribbled heart at the top. Chloe Beale. Beca thinks she looks like a Chloe.

“I’ll call you,” Beca says to Chloe, tucking the paper into her bag for safekeeping.

“Then I look forward to it,” Chloe says with a wink, mounting her bike. And with that, she’s gone, cycling away down the road.

Beca stares after her, sighing heavily. Well, that was an eventful start to her day. And she’s now officially thirty-one minutes late.

Brilliant.


	33. notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #33:  
> “you picked up my backpack by accident and now i have no idea where you’re at but i really hope you don’t look through my bag bc i have like a million notes that i’ve written to you but never sent in there” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a nice long one :)

“Shit shit _shit_ ,” Beca mumbles, staring frantically round her Psychology classroom. She left her backpack here, she _knows_ she did. But it’s nowhere to be seen. Absolutely nowhere.

How she’d managed to forget her _backpack_ , of all things, is beyond her. She’s not even bothered about the bag itself. It’s the contents of the bag that she’s worried about.

The contents of her backpack is rather… private. It’s not really the contents as a whole, more so a small notebook.

She has notes in there. Notes to her crush, Chloe Beale. The girl is one of the “Populars”, and head of the Cheerleading Team. She’s an angelic ray of sunshine, a walking lightbulb. And of course, _everyone_ has a crush on her.

Chloe’s gorgeous and flirty and can get anyone to do anything for her; all it takes is a soft smile and a wink, and everyone’s putty in her hands. Beca’s just the weird tiny alt girl that lurks at the back of lessons, slipping around the school like a ghost.

Beca doesn’t think of Chloe like the others do, though. She doesn’t like Chloe for her looks — although the girl is absolutely _stunning_ — and she’s not interested in “getting in her pants” either.

No, Beca likes Chloe for her smile, her laugh, the special twinkle in her eyes, her kindness to others, no matter who they are. But the brunette has absolutely no self-confidence, and would never even dare to approach the redhead, so she stays in the shadows, watching from afar.

Beca stays in the shadows so much that she’s certain Chloe doesn’t even know her name. They’ve never made eye contact, never run into each other, never spoken.

Yet Beca’s in love with her.

She really hates it, because unrequited love fucking sucks. It sucks more than anything else. Beca just sits at home, mixing sad love songs together and writing love notes in her inconspicuous black notebook.

So yeah, she needs her goddamn backpack back. If someone has it and finds the notebook, opens it, reads it, she’s done for. Absolutely done for. Beca knows what will happen if one of Chloe’s friends or one of the boys (they’re _all_ absolute dickheads) finds it.

Chloe will be notified immediately, that’s for sure. And then will come the teasing and probably bullying. If she’s found out, her quiet, antisocial life will be over. And the torture will begin.

“Beca? Are you okay?” A voice asks from the doorway. Beca spins round to see her teacher, Miss Specter. She’s a kind woman, and Beca will begrudgingly admit that she kind of likes her. Only kind of, though.

Beca tries not to get into the habit of liking people. It never ends well.

“Oh, um, I was just wondering if you’d seen my backpack? I left it here before lunch by accident,” the brunette explains, rubbing the material of her tshirt between her thumb and index finger.

It’s a nervous tick.

As she waits for an answer, she chews on her bottom lip, digging her teeth into the skin aggressively.

Another nervous tick.

“Ah yes, a student picked it up at the end, said they’d give it to you,” the woman says, smiling softly.

Beca grits her teeth. She needs to know exactly who picked it up. The last thing she feels like doing right now is smiling.

“Uh, and who was it?”

“Hmm, let me think. Ah, it was Chloe Beale. You know who she is, don’t you?” Miss Specter is still smiling but Beca’s stomach just _drops_ , her heart hammering away in her chest.

She suddenly feels dizzy, a wave of nausea rolling over her. Fuck _fuck_ _**fuck**_. This is possibly the worst day of her life. She doesn’t know what to do.

What if Chloe’s looked through it? What if she’s seen the notebook? What if she’s disgusted by all the stupid love notes Beca’s too scared to send. What if she’s told all her friends? What if there’s a group of them coming for her _this very minute?_

Beca’s knees buckle underneath her, and she stumbles sideways, grabbing onto the nearest table to steady herself. “Beca, what’s wrong?”

“I… I have to go,” she murmurs, flying from the room with such haste she nearly trips over her own feet. She speeds down the corridors, her mind whirring at a million miles per hour.

Wherever Chloe is, her friends will be there too, and there’s _no way_ she’s going up to them. Especially not if Chloe’s best friend Aubrey — aka she-demon — is there.

And of course Aubrey will be there because she’s always wherever Chloe is. They practically come as a pair. Beca’s only seen them apart in classes, if Aubrey’s at Debate Club or if one of them is “chatting” to someone. By “chatting”, she means seducing; everyone’s already wrapped around their fingers.

Beca stops in the middle of the corridor, because what use is running frantically round the school?

She heads for the bathrooms near the RE department because they’re the least used, and the nicest.

Once safely inside, she locks herself in one of the cubicles and sits down on the toilet seat, dropping her head into her hands.

The weight of what could happen slams into her, and she fights to keep the tears at bay. Clenching her jaw, she blinks away the offending liquid.

Just as the first traitorous tear falls down her cheek, the door to the bathroom swings open, and two people walk in. Beca wipes at her eyes, trying not to sniff as she listens in.

“Aubrey, what do I do?”

It’s Chloe Beale. _Chloe Fucking Beale_ is standing outside her cubicle door. With Aubrey Posen. The she-demon.

Yeah, Beca suddenly has no plans to leave anytime soon.

“There’s nothing to do, Chlo. Just give her back her bag and pretend you didn’t see anything. Who even is this chick anyway?” Aubrey’s voice is dismissive, and Beca doesn’t catch Chloe’s reply because her heart plummets.

She presses a hand to her mouth to muffle a sob. Chloe’s seen the notes. _You fucking idiot. Absolute idiot._ Why does she have to like Chloe Beale, of all people? The most unavailable person in the whole damn school. Not to mention Chloe is most likely straight. _What was I thinking?_

But that’s the thing, she wasn’t thinking. Beca knows she should have blocked out her feelings for Chloe long before they manifested. She knows she shouldn’t have allowed them to linger. But she did. And now she’s dealing with the consequences.

It’s what she deserves.

“—she’s way out of your league anyway. I don’t know why you’re arguing with me over this. She’s some weird alt girl with spikes in her ears, for fucks sake. You’re Chloe Beale, the most sought-after girl in the school. Hundreds of people have a crush on you. This one is no different to the others. She’s just some weirdo who can’t keep it in her pants. Ignore it, Chloe, I’m serious.” Aubrey’s voice is stern and cold, and Beca shouldn’t have expected it not to be.

The effect the words have on her is something she defintely did not plan for. Instead of gritting her teeth and staying silent like she’d planned, her mouth betrays her. A small sob slips out, tears rolling down her cheeks.

She doesn’t know why she’s upset because she’s always known she never had the slightest chance, but Aubrey’s words have cut deeper than she’d have liked.

Both girls turn silent, a clear indication that they heard the quiet sob. Beca curses herself over and over, leading they just ignore it and continue wounding her over and over again.

“Hello? Are you okay?” Chloe asks tentatively, knocking on the cubicle door. Beca stays silent, her nails digging harshly into her palm. What is she meant to say? “Hello?”

Panicking, Beca does the only thing she can think of. Try and run.

She slides the lock off and opens the door, giving the two girls a split second to realise who she is before she pushes past them roughly. She’s back out in the corridor before she knows it, running past locker after locker as she heads for the exit of the school.

She barely registers the sound of voices behind her, footsteps behind hers. It’s only when she slows to catch her breath — she’s absolutely shit at sport — that she realises exactly who it is.

“Beca,” Chloe breathes, barely out of breath. She looks almost shy, her smile weak and barely there.

Beca figures the easiest way to spare herself even further heartbreak is to act noncholant and uncaring. “What do you want?”

“You heard us, in the toilets,” the redhead begins, walking slowly towards the small brunette. Beca wraps her arms around her waist in defence, as though she’s holding herself together in the middle.

“So?”

“I’m sorry. For the things Aubrey said, I mean. She’s just… She has some strong opinions,” Chloe explains, a faint smile gracing her lips. Beca doesn’t smile, her expression grave as she watches her crush speak.

This defintely isn’t how their first interaction is meant to go. They’re meant to bump into each other in the corridor, like in all the fanfictions she’s read.

They weren’t meant to meet like this. Never like this.

“It’s fine,” she mumbles, chewing on her bottom lip. She’s pretty sure it’s bleeding — she can taste the tangy metal flavour on her tongue — but she doesn’t care.

“So you know I read the notes.” Beca goes to interrupt, to defend herself, but Chloe holds up a hand to stop her. “Let me speak,” she says, and Beca just nods numbly. “Do you know how I felt when I read those notes? Warm. Fuzzy. Full of love. Beca, I like you. I like you a lot. We’ve never spoken, but you always watch me. And I watch you too, when you think no one’s looking. Hundreds may have a crush on me, but 90% are boys who just want to get in my pants because I’m hot.

“But you’re not like that. I never thought you were, and it was even more clear from your notes. You actually give a damn about me, as a person. People don’t see Chloe Beale, people see a hot ginger. But not you. You see Chloe Beale, don’t you?”

Beca nods again because what the fuck is she meant to say to all that. Chloe confessed she liked her too, and told her that she isn’t like the rest of then. Beca feels oddly special.

She’s still numb from the words; she can’t quite formulate a reply so soon. Chloe’s staring at her hopefully, those cerulean eyes shining, her smile radiating warmth.

Beca doesn’t know when she lost control of her body, but she assumes it’s the moment her lips touch Chloe’s. She’s finally kissing Chloe Beale, her hopeless, impossible crush.

But now it’s actually happening, and it just feels so _right_.


	34. stationery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #34:  
> “yes, that’s my backpack..why are you grinning like that did you look through mY BAG” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another longer one :)

Chloe finds the bag when she gets back from her Psychology class. She’s always the first one back on a Wednesday, and it’s become a tradition that she cooks for The Bellas. She’s the best cook out of all of them — or so they say — and her delicious meals are welcomed by everyone.

The bag is plain and black, which really doesn’t mean anything. They all have plain black bags because they go with any outfit. She bites her lip cautiously, wondering what to do.

Does she look inside? What the hell, they’re all friends, whoever’s it is wont be mad at her. She only wants to find out who it belongs to, not snoop around for secrets.

Despite knowing she’s alone, Chloe checks quickly over her shoulder to make sure she’s not being watched. She opens the bag carefully, peeking inside as she does so.

What greets her eyes makes her frown.

Sure her eyes are deceiving her, she empties the contents of the bag onto the carpet. She sits down cross-legged, eyes widening as she fully absorbs what’s lying in front of her.

Stationery. _So much_ stationery. Rainbow stationery. Fluffy stationery. Unicorn stationery. Pink stationery. Pens, pencils, rubbers, rulers, washi tape, pencil cases and more. There’s more than Chloe’s ever seen. _Ever_.

Chloe’s jaw drops in shock. Who the fuck would own _this much_ stationery? It’s all either adorable or simply gorgeous. The only people she can think of are Ashley or Jessica, but even she thinks this is a little far for them. Neither have ever shown a remote interest in stationary.

In fact, none of The Bellas have.

This means it’s a secret. Something they don’t want anyone to know. Chloe immediately feels guilty for being nosy and emptying out the bag. She should have just left it for the owner to pick up when they saw it, not been a curious idiot like she always is.

Cheeks heating up, the redhead begins to hastily shove all the stationery back into the bag. She wishes putting everything back could erase the past five minutes, but it can’t. Even though it’s only one of The Bellas, she can’t help but feel like she’s found out some big secret no one was ever meant to know.

Once the bag is back in the same place it was before, the straps arranged in exactly the same way, Chloe backs into the living room. She falls down onto the couch, pressing a hand to her warm cheek.

She doesn’t know why she feels so fucking guilty. They’re all friends with nothing to hide. Or so she thought… It’s only stationery. A secret love of stationery. That’s totally fine.

The door opens and Stacie walks in, Beca trailing behind her. They’re back from their Philosophy class. (Chloe knows Beca was forced into doing it, but she was surprised when she found out Stacie had a passion for it.)

“Chloe!” Stacie greets, hugging the redhead as she rises from the couch. Chloe silently crosses the leggy brunette from her mind. There’s _no way_ it’s Stacie. First of all, just no. And secondly, Chloe’s pretty sure the girl’s only obsession is sex.

Chloe’s gaze lands on Beca, who’s standing quietly, watching her. The brunette’s eyes are clouded with thought, the navy orbs swirling. The bag defintely doesn’t belong to Beca either. Defintely not.

Beca’s not one to be into all the gorgeous shit she found inside that bag. Chloe likes to think she knows Beca pretty well — they are best friends after all — so she crosses the tiny girl off her list.

* * *

After a lovely dinner of homemade tortellini, courtesy of Chloe, The Bellas pile into the living room to watch a movie. Chloe cuddles up on the couch with Beca, their legs tangled together, arms wrapped around each other. She presses a fond kiss to the brunette’s head, earning a light slap on the thigh. Beca pretends to hate the affectionate touches, but Chloe knows better.

It’s only as her eyes sweep round the living room and into the hall that she notices the bag is gone. She scans the floor again, wondering if she’d missed it.

Nope. Still not there.

It’s weird, she thinks. It’s only been two hours since the last person entered the house (Fat Amy, of course), and the bag was still there then. Chloe knows it was, because she’d checked. And she’d done so again just before dinner.

It’s been an hour since dinner, so she concludes it was moved between 6:15 and 7:15PM. But they’ve all been together. Or have they?

Chloe screws her eyes shut and travels back to dinner. They’d all been eating and… aha, Ashley had left the table for more water. She must have moved the bag then.

But no. Then she remembers that Cynthia-Rose left to get socks, Beca left to grab a jumper and Lilly left to… okay, she’s no idea on that one. So that narrows it down to four people.

The bag belongs to one of them, Chloe’s sure of it. The only one of them she thinks could be possibly harbouring a secret love for stationery is Ashley.

Hm. Perhaps she’ll broach the subject one day.

Beca shifts in her arms, resting her head against her chest. The backpack is instantly forgotten as Chloe inhales the brunette’s lavender shampoo — yes, a gift from Chloe herself — and relaxes back into the couch.

* * *

Chloe forgets about the backpack until she sees it again, two days later. In Beca’s room. Yep, _Beca Effin’ Mitchell._ She really doesn’t know what to think of it, because Beca having a secret love for stationery? That’s just… weird.

She’s in there to “study”, which actually means “watch Beca mix while pretending to do work”. When the brunette gets up to grab them both a snack, Chloe can’t resist peeking into the bag.

She tells herself it’s to check that it really belongs to Beca, that she’s not snooping. Defintely not. She still feels inexplicably guilty as she tugs on the zip.

It’s all there, but now neatly organised. Pencils sorted into one special case, pens in another and so on. The folders have colour-coded tabs, all neatly organised.

Who would have guessed. Beca Mitchell is also a neat freak. Wow.

Chloe’s so shocked that the backpack belongs to _Beca_ , of all people, that she momentarily forgets how to move. She’s frozen, just staring at the contents as her mind processes what she’s seen.

It may seem like she’s overreacting, but she’s just discovered one of Beca’s secrets. A big one. She knows how much effort Beca puts into keeping her walls up. Those walls are clearly there for a reason.

Chloe guesses that Beca thinks she’ll be judged for this. Told “it’s not like her” and other bullshit. She knows Beca would feel insecure about something like this. Hence the need to hide it.

As she hears footsteps coming up the stairs, Chloe rises from her crouched position. She picks up the bag, ready to confront Beca as soon as she walks in.

But Chloe’s not going to be the person that mocks Beca for her passions. She’s going to help the closed off girl to see that it’s okay to like whatever she wants to. That she doesn’t have to hide it from everyone. Sure there will be haters, but Chloe knows The Bella’s wouldn’t judge Beca for this.

“Ch-Chloe…” Beca mumbles, her jaw dropping as she sees exactly what her best friend is holding.

“Is this yours?” Chloe asks softly, calmly. She watches as Beca dumps the packets of Ryvita — a thing Chloe introduced her to — and bottles of water on her desk.

The brunette gulps, wiping her palms hastily on her jeans. “Yes,” she admits quietly, casting her eyes to the ground. Chloe walks forward and tilts her chin up, smiling warmly at the nervous girl. “Why are you smiling? What’s so funny?”

It pains Chloe that Beca’s first assumption is that she’s going to be mocked. “Beca, I’m not going to tease you. Calm down,” she says gently. She brings her hand up to cup Beca’s cheek, rubbing her cheekbone with her thumb.

“Why not? It’s stupid… It’s childish and silly. It ruins my image. People would tease me so much. The badass Beca Mitchell, into stationery. Very funny.” Beca looks like she’s about to dissolve into tears, and Chloe really doesn’t want that to happen. Not on her watch.

“Beca, listen. I think it’s awesome that you love stationery. Seriously your collection is amazing. And I’ll bet you have more than what’s in that bag. I think it’s great. The rest of The Bellas certainly won’t judge you. We all love you so much, and don’t want you to feel that you have to hide things from us.

“I know you’re a private person, and I don’t expect you to tell us about personal things. I don’t expect you to be open, I just want you to know that you can be if you want to. It’s all up to you. I’m not going to push you to do _anything_ , I never would. I hope you know that we all support you. And liking stationery really isn’t going to change that.”

Beca’s crying by the end of Chloe’s little speech, thick tears rolling down pale cheeks. “Chlo…” she whispers, biting down harshly on her lip.

Chloe can see the conflict in the brunette’s eyes, the uncertainty, the gratitude, the _love_. One minute Chloe’s blinking slowly at Beca, and the next she’s stumbling backwards, lips attached desperately to hers.

Beca pushes her backwards till her back thuds against the wall, wrapping her arms around the brunette’s waist. They kiss fervently, hands clawing, teeth nipping at soft skin. It’s messy but it’s passionate and it’s _them_.

“I love you,” Chloe breathes as they pull apart, panting. Their lips are swollen, chests rising and falling rapidly as they rest their foreheads together.

“I love you too,” Beca replies, pressing a chaste kiss to the redhead’s lips. “So much,” she adds.

Who knew stationery would lead to this?


	35. caramel latte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #35:  
> “you got stood up on a date at the coffee shop i work in here let me get you a drink on the house” au

Beca’s been watching her for forty-five minutes. The woman is sat alone at a table, checking her phone every two minutes for the time. Clicking it on, sighing, and clicking it off again. It’s clear she’s waiting for someone. And it’s also painfully clear they’ve stood her up.

Beca hates watching it, because the woman is gorgeous and doesn’t deserve to be stood up ever. She’s been ordering a steady stream of coffees and teas just to keep the table. But this place is pretty expensive so Beca’s pretty sure the woman has spent about $20 on drinks already.

She can’t just stand by and watch the woman draw into herself even more. Beca’s never normally one to interfere with people’s business, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Determined to cheer the woman up, she goes about making the biggest caramel latte she can, adding a healthy dusting of chocolate on top. She decides to add in a chocolate muffin too, just to be safe.

The bill comes to $7.75. Beca stores the information at the back of her mind for later. She’ll have to pay out of her own money, because the manager is an asshole. But she doesn’t mind, in this case.

Checking that everything is perfect, she carries it over to the table. The woman is staring at her blank phone screen, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Beca thinks she was way too hopeful waiting forty-five minutes.

Once her date hadn’t shown up after ten minutes, so she’d left. Some people have more faith than others.

“Hi, I have a caramel latte and a muffin for you,” she says, placing them onto the tabletop. The woman frowns, looking at the coffee and then at Beca.

“I didn’t order it. Plus, I can’t afford any more drinks,” she says bitterly, fiddling with the corner of her phone case.

“It’s on the house,” Beca informs softly. “I’ve been watching you since you came in here, and it’s not a secret you’ve been stood up. I thought perhaps a free coffee and muffin may cheer you up a little.” Beca doesn’t know if the woman even likes muffins or caramel lattes, but it was a wild guess. She’s pretty good at working out what coffee people drink. The pretty woman seems like a caramel latte kind of person.

“I… Thank you. I don’t know why I waited so long. I should have given up ages ago.” A single tear rolls down the woman’s cheek, and Beca places a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“You’re too beautiful to be stood up,” the brunette says boldly, offering a friendly wink as the woman smiles up at her through her tears.

“And you’re too kind. I’m Chloe, by the way,” she says, placing a hand over the one on her shoulder. She strokes Beca’s fingers absently, unable to help the uncontrollable smile on her face.

“Beca,” the barista replies in greeting. “You do like caramel lattes, right?”

“Yes! They’re my favourite, but I only ever get them as a treat,” Chloe tells Beca, cerulean eyes sparkling. Her tears are gone, and she looks pleased to have some company. “How did you know?”

“I could tell.” Beca winks slyly, eliciting a giggle from Chloe. The gorgeous sound makes Beca’s stomach flip, and she laughs in response. God, what’s wrong with her today. She’s never normally like this. Never normally this... happy.

There’s something about Chloe’s presence that makes her want to smile and laugh all day. That should scare her, because it’s a totally foreign concept, but it doesn’t. She just feels calm and happy, around the chirpy redhead.

“Do you want to sit down? Or do you have to get back to work?” Chloe’s voice is hopeful, and Beca doesn’t even care if her manager gets mad at her. The chance to sit with Chloe is worth it any punishment.

“Oh no, I can stay for a bit,” she lies. She really should go back to the counter, but Ashley is up there manning the till, and Jessica is making the coffees, so it’s fine.

“Awesome!” Chloe sounds so happy, and Beca’s stomach flips once more. Her eyes fall down to the redhead’s lips, gaze lingering. They look deliciously soft and all Beca wants to do is kiss— She stops herself before she can get carried away. They’re just friends. Friends who just met. Nothing else. “So, where are you from?”

“Uhhh,” Beca hesitates, snapping herself out of her trance. “Portland. I’m from Portland. I‘m here in Atlanta visiting my mom for a couple of months, so I got a job just to earn some extra cash. She moved here when I was at Uni. How about you?”

“I’m here seeing family too! I was born here, so I know the place pretty well. I could give you a tour if you like?” Chloe’s still smiling and Beca can’t even fathom saying no, so she just nods enthusiastically.

“That would be great, thanks,” Beca accepts when she finally finds her voice. “Um... do you want my number?”

“Yes! Just put it in my phone.” Chloe passes over her unlocked phone, and the brunette enters in her number and saves the contact, adding a red heart after her name. It was her sudden burst of courage that did it.

Beca hands back Chloe’s phone, smiling softly. “Text me when you’re free,” she says, twisting her thumb ring round and round on her finger.

“Oh I will.” When Chloe winks, Beca knows she’s long gone. She’s never coming back now. The stunning redhead will be the death of her.


	36. let’s talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #36:  
> “i’m scared to walk home in the dark and its really late so i called a random number and got you” au

It’s dark and it’s late and Chloe really doesn’t want to walk home alone. She had to stay for an extra few hours at work thanks to her demanding boss, and now she has to walk home. Why did today of all days have to be the one her car is in the garage?

She could call Aubrey… but then she remembers that her best friend is on a date with Stacie, and she really doesn’t want to interrupt their night.

Chloe recalls the story of how Stacie had been walking home alone after a night out, and had drunk-dialled a random number. That random number turned out to be Aubrey, and that’s how they’d met. It was cute, really.

But the story gets her thinking. Perhaps calling a random number isn’t such a bad idea. No, she’s not drunk, and she’s 99% sure a romance won’t come of it, but it’s late and the streets of New York aren’t exactly the safest.

With slightly shaking hands, she punches a random number into her phone. She holds it up to her ear as it rings, over and over. She’s just about to give up and press the red button, when the line is finally picked up.

 _“Beca Mitchell speaking,”_ a rough voice greets, the tone flat. Chloe frowns immediately because the woman on the other end sounds both tired and frustrated.

“Um… hi,” Chloe squeals out, suddenly nervous. She starts to regret dialling the number. Why did she think this was a good idea? What if Beca gets mad?

_“Can I help you?”_

“Um, I’m Chloe. I’m walking home alone and I dialled a random number because it’s cold and dark and—“ she begins explaining, the words tumbling out all at once.

 _“You’re telling me you called just because you’re scared to walk home?”_ Beca scoffs, clearly unimpressed. _“Dude, I have things to do.”_

Panic rises within Chloe because _shit_ , she really doesn’t want Beca to hang up. “No, wait, please don’t hang up,” she begs, her voice faltering slightly. She doesn’t like making her fear so well-known, but she’s more scared of the dark than she’d like to admit.

 _“Dude, I’m_ busy _, and you’re a complete stranger. You could be lying for all I know,”_ Beca retorts impatiently. Chloe frowns, because she doesn’t want to inconvenience Beca, but she can’t bring herself to give in and hang up.

“I’m scared of the dark,” she blurts, the words hanging in the air like a lingering smell. There’s silence, no response from Beca, and for a minute Chloe thinks she’s hung up.

But then a heavy sigh comes crackling over the line, and Beca speaks. _“How long will it take you to walk home?”_  She sounds reluctant, as though she’s considering staying on the phone, but doesn’t want to do so.

“Um, half an hour or so?”

 _“Half an hour?!_ _You know what… Fine. You can stay on phone. But you’re a pussy, you know that? Being scared of the dark is for babies.”_ Chloe knows it’s a stupid fear, but something in her just snaps. This random woman has no right to be rude to her.

“What is your problem?” Chloe hisses, walking quickly down the pavement. The faster she walks, the quicker she gets home. To the warm. Where she can hang up the goddamn phone.

 _“My problem, is that you’ve called me just because you’re a baby who’s scared of the dark!”_ Beca’s voice is equally frustrated, and Chloe thinks she can hear the woman’s teeth grinding through her phone.

“I’ve done nothing to you, and suddenly you just laugh at me like I’m a child? I’m an adult. Yes, being scared of the dark is stupid, but aren’t all fears? You can’t tell me you don’t have a stupid fear,” the readhead retorts, voice raised. She thinks she’s probably overreacting, but she’s started the argument now and she sure as hell isn’t backing down.

The line goes silent, and Chloe wonders if Beca’s hung up, but she hasn’t. She can hear the woman’s quiet breathing over the line, the breaths short and shallow.

For another five minutes, the line stays silent, no words spoken between them. Chloe doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, because she thinks she’s probably upset Beca. Yes, the other woman had no right to be rude, but she was unnecessarily harsh.

The even breaths are rather comforting as she walks, still holding the phone to her ear. She even allows herself to wonder what it would be like to wake up beside the woman, legs tangled together, her head on her chest, listening to a steady heartbeat. But she stops herself, because she doesn’t even know what the woman looks like. Hell, she knows nothing about Beca. Absolutely nothing.

She suddenly feels guilty, her stomach flipping as she thinks of the upset she could have caused. And because Chloe’s the beautiful ray of sunshine she is, she speaks first. “I’m sorry… I overreacted and—“ she begins, her tone apologetic.

 _“No,”_ Beca interrupts, gently but firmly. _“I shouldn’t have made fun of you. I’m… I’m scared of being abandoned. Of being loved and left. Of giving myself to someone and waking up one day to find them gone. Because they don’t love me. Because I’m not good enough. Because I’m—“_ The muffled sound of sobs comes through the line, and Chloe can’t help her near-silent gasp.

She hadn’t meant to prompt Beca into spilling her deepest fears, but she suspects it was something she needed to let out. Perhaps she doesn’t have anyone else to talk to.

_“I’m sorry, I just…”_

“Oh my god, please don’t apologise. I know a deep chat wasn’t exactly planned… but I don’t mind. I’m up for it if you are,” Chloe offers, chewing her on her bottom lip nervously as she waits for Beca’s response.

 _“I-I’d actually like that, thanks,”_ the woman accepts, her voice still wet from her earlier tears.

“Then let’s talk.”


	37. hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #37:  
> “you live across the hall and hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one night stands” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry this is so late. i planned to post it on wednesday, but then was super busy. i’ve been in hospital since thursday and have consequently had no time to post it. i’m still here, but i’ve finally found time, and it’s a long one, so enjoy!

**i.**  
“Can I help you?” Beca leans against the doorframe, still in her pyjamas. Her hair is a mess, and the only things she’s wearing are a shirt and panties.

Chloe bites her lip as her eyes travel down Beca’s body, appreciating her curves and toned legs. She’s silent as her gaze comes back up to rest on Beca’s face.

“Now you’re done checking me out, d’you wanna tell me why you’re here? I was sleeping, and it’s… 7AM. On a Saturday. Have you never heard of sleeping in?” Beca huffs, rubbing her eyes. She’s still half asleep, and does _not_  take being interrupted lightly. She never normally wakes before at least 11AM at the weekends.

“Yeah, sorry. Um, I live across the hall. I’m Chloe—“ the redhead begins, cheeks heating up. She knows she’d taken her time appreciating Beca’s body, but she hadn’t quite thought about how obvious it would be.

It’s no secret she’s gay. She’s been comfortable with it since she was thirteen, but she has no idea if Beca’s gay (her gaydar is pinging wildly, but she doesn’t want to trust it).

“I know who you are. Chloe Beale. Apartment 105,” Beca interrupts, pretending to inspect her nails. She really doesn’t give a rats ass about them, but she wants to seem noncholant. Chloe’s eyes land on the edges of the nails, noticing how they’re trimmed down to the tips of her fingers.

Interesting.

“Oh, okay then. So, I may have had a one night stand and I was just wondering if I could hide in your apartment? Like, till they leave?” The words come out in a rush, because let’s face it, Chloe’s actually kind of worried Beca will say no. It’s not exactly a normal request.

“And you have nowhere else to go?” Beca’s smirking, clearly finding the situation amusing. It feels nice to have the upper hand. (Yes, figuratively. Chloe is taller than her, of course.)

“No. It is Saturday, after all.” The redhead smiles hopefully, gaze dropping back to Beca’s legs. God, they look so good.

“Eyes up, Beale,” Beca teases, laughing. Chloe blushes deeply again, embarrassed. “I mean, I can’t believe you’re scared of a stranger. But sure, come in.”

Chloe lets out a breath of relief, gratefully stepping into the warm apartment. “I’m not scared,” she defends insistently. “It’s just awkward. Don’t you think so?”

“Never had one,” Beca replies casually, shrugging. Chloe’s surprised by the answer, but her stomach drops nonetheless. Clearly Beca has someone then. A boyfriend probably.

“Ah, so you’ve got someone to keep you busy?” The redhead asks playfully, falling down on Beca’s couch. It’s leather, but soft and comfortable. Way nicer than hers. In fact, the whole apartment is nice. The tiny brunette obviously has a good job.

“Nope. Haven’t had anyone since I was sixteen.” The words are confessed with a fake carelessness. Chloe can tell it’s something that bothers Beca, from the way her body tensed and her jaw clenched.

“I see,” Chloe says quietly. “So, how about some Netflix?” And suddenly, the awkwardness is gone.

 **ii.**  
“Dude, _again?_ ”

“Sorry,” Chloe says sheepishly, making sure to keep her eyes trained on Beca’s face this time, and _definitely_ not those lovely bare legs.

“Twice in three weeks? You must be desperate? Boyfriend not up to your standards?” Beca’s teasing, her tone playful, but there’s something inside her that twists uncomfortably. She ignores the twinge of jealously she feels in her gut. Yeah, she’s definitely going to forget about it.

“I don’t date guys. I’m gay,” Chloe corrects confidently, smirking at the way Beca’s jaw drops.

And suddenly everything changes.

“Y-You’re gay?” Beca can’t quite believe her ears. Chloe’s gay?! That means she has a chance. A small one, an extremely small one, but it’s still there. Perhaps Chloe doesn’t want to date at the moment, hence the one night stands, but she has nothing to lose. Maybe one day, Beca will find the courage to ask her out.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” Chloe’s teasing, but Beca doesn’t know that. A blush rises to the brunette’s cheeks, and she quickly looks away.

“What? No! Of course not,” Beca assures. She seems offended that Chloe would even think that she had a problem with it.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m sure. I’m... I’m gay too.”

 **iii.**  
“So, you haven’t been with anyone since you were sixteen?” Chloe asks curiously, tucking her legs up underneath her. They’re settled on Beca’s couch, at 7AM. Beca doesn’t even seem to mind being woken early when it’s Chloe. As soon as she sees the redhead’s sheepish smile, she perks up.

They still don’t know each other that well, because this is only the third time in three months they’ve interacted properly. They’re both busy with their jobs, their lives. Passing smiles and quick hellos are all they’ve exchanged.

Chloe hasn’t left Beca’s mind since that day. The day the redhead had turned up on her front door asking to hide from her one night stand, Beca had thought of her 24/7. Literally.

“You remember that?” Beca’s surprised, because that was roughly a month ago, and Chloe sure has hell has better things to remember.

“I remember everything you tell me, Becs,” the redhead says, her tone slightly surprised. She seems almost offended that Beca would think otherwise.

“Right…”

Chloe just smiles softly at her, moving closer to where Beca’s sat at the other end of the couch. The apartment isn’t cold, not in the slightest, but if Beca asks, that’s Chloe’s excuse. She wants to be close to the brunette, for some reason. Sure, Beca’s smoking hot, and totally dateable, but despite being gay, Chloe has a feeling Beca wouldn’t want to date someone like her.

Despite the twist in her stomach she feels when she thinks about Beca rejecting her, she wants to know why the brunette is still single. Surely women (and men) would be chasing after her? “So, why haven’t you found anyone since then?”

Beca sighs at the question, as if she’d seen it coming. She glances to her left, at where Chloe’s hand has come to rest casually on her calf. She focuses on the feeling of soft skin on her leg as she thinks, debating whether to be honest or make up some bullshit excuse about being “busy with work”.

For some reason, she opts for honesty. Chloe seems to bring out a softer side in her, and she’s sure she should be worried. But she isn’t. Instead, she feels calm, safe, protected. It’s nice, even if nothing will ever happen between them.

“People don’t like me,” Beca admits quietly. It’s not exactly something she’s proud of. She hasn’t had friends her whole life because of it. “They don’t find me attractive. They think the eyeliner and spikes in my ears make me ugly. I’m rude and I push people away. They tend to leave me alone as soon as I show any remote interest.” She defintely isn’t planning for her voice to crack at the end, but it does.

“You haven’t pushed me away,” Chloe points of gently, rubbing small circles on Beca’s calf. She’s saddened at the thought of the small brunette being alone because of other people’s bullshit opinions. But she can’t help but wonder what’s different about her. Why hasn’t Beca pushed her away?

“I… No, I haven’t. I don’t know why.”

 **iv.**  
“Chlo, you’ve got to stop coming here!” It’s only been a week since the redhead last turned up, and Beca’s a little worried.

“Are you telling me you don’t want me to come over? Have I done something wrong? Are we breaking up?” Chloe’s words are panicked as they spill out, and suddenly she starts wringing her hands together desperately.

“Breaking up? What are you talking about?” Beca asks, confused. Last time she checked, they aren’t dating. Whether she wishes they were isn’t relevant.

“Our friendship, dummy! I don’t understand why you don’t want me to come here? Do you not like me? Are you pushing me away?” Chloe still seems so nervous, and it rattles Beca more than she’d like to admit. The flushed, anxious Chloe is so different to the usually chilled one she’s used to.

“Chloe, calm down,” Beca says, grabbing the readhead’s hands in her own. She rubs gentle circles over the clammy skin, regarding the woman with soft, hooded eyes. “I didn’t mean I don’t want you to come here. I just meant I think you should stop having so many one night stands. I know you could argue four in three months isn’t a lot, but it’s more than you should have.”

Beca leads Chloe over to her couch as she speaks, and they both sit down. The redhead cuddles into Beca’s side, burying her head in her warm neck. They stay silent for a few minutes, quiet breathing the only sound breaking the silence.

“It’s to fill a hole,” Chloe confesses, pulling away. “After I split up with my ex, I believed no one would love me again. She found me overbearing, annoying, clingy, sappy, too cheerful and… well, the list goes on. It really hurt, and it still does. So now I’m trying to forget about it through meaningless sex with strangers. I know it’s not going to work, but I wanted to believe it would.”

Beca stays quiet for a moment, digesting Chloe’s words. It pains her that the redhead let her asshole ex get her down, and force her to resort to one night stands to try and forget about the damage she caused.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re any of those things. I think you’re gorgeous, amazing, kind, funny and cheerful. We barely see each other, but you always manage to brighten my day with just a smile. Thank you for that.” Beca cringes at her confession. It sounds sappy and romantic, two things she really hadn’t intended. _What if Chloe figures out I like her? Shit._

“Beca, I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I don’t…” Chloe trails off, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. She narrows her eyes as she thinks, arguing back and forth with herself. Does she? Or doesn’t she?

Mind made up, Chloe turns to face Beca. She shifts closer into her, relishing in the warmth radiating off the brunette’s body. Then, cupping Beca’s cheeks with her hands, she presses a soft kiss to her lips.

Beca freezes, her body tensing as Chloe kisses her. The redhead realises her mistake when the brunette doesn’t kiss back, and she pulls away, horror and embarrassment written all over her face.

“Oh my god, I am _so sorry_. Shit, I really misjudged the situation. I’m so sorry. I’m going to go… I’m sorry for—“

Chloe’s panicked ramble is cut off by lips slamming into hers, Beca’s tongue seeking entrance immediately. Beca swings her leg over so she’s on Chloe’s lap, wrapping her arms around her neck as she nips down the redhead’s jawline.

Chloe’s head falls back as Beca sucks and swirls at her skin. “Mmm Becs,” she moans, eyes rolling back into her head.

 **v.**  
Beca wakes first. She’s highly aware of what happened last night. They were both stone-cold sober. Things had gotten pretty heated after the kiss, and stayed that way till they’d both been worn out, and had fallen asleep.

Now, they’re naked, wrapped up in the sheets, legs tangled loosely together. Chloe’s arm is draped lazily round Beca’s waist, her breasts brushing against her back.

It occurs to Beca that this could just be another one night stand to Chloe, and that pains her. She hates to think that they may never talk after this. What they did can’t be taken back. It’s done now. Beca just hopes Chloe has the decency to stay.

She pretends to be asleep, because she doesn’t want to ruin the peace. She isn’t about to interrupt lying in bed with Chloe for anything. Especially not if there’s a chance the woman will just leave. No way.

When she feels Chloe stir in her arms, her heart flutters. She has a sudden hope, a tiny flame in her stomach that tells her everything will be okay.

But when Chloe slips from her grasp, and out of bed, Beca’s heart drops. Her stomach twists violently, and she can’t fight the urge to curl in on herself. She cracks open one eye, and watches as Chloe pulls on her jeans quietly.

She can’t take it. She’s not about to let Chloe slip through her grip. She has a chance to make the redhead hers, to ask her on a date. She doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing.

Beca sits up abruptly before she can stop herself. “You’re really going to leave?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s actually rather angry. She’s surprised Chloe was going to leave, but then again, she supposes she shouldn’t be. After all, it’s what the redhead does every time.

“Oh, Becs, you’re awake.” Chloe spins round, hand pressed to her chest. Her jeans are half pulled on, her shirt hanging open to reveal full breasts encased in a lacy bra. Beca tears her eyes away from them, instead focusing on Chloe’s face and her frustration.

“Yeah, I am,” she snaps, drawing the sheets higher up her chest. She feels vulnerable when she’s naked, and she doesn’t like it.

“Is something wrong?”

“ _Yes_. Yes there is. You were going to leave. Like this was nothing to you. I’m just another quick fuck, aren’t I? Don’t deny it,” Beca snarls, all sense of vulnerability gone as she slides off the bed and jabs a finger into Chloe’s chest.

“Beca…”

“Don’t _‘Beca’_ me!” Chloe flinches backwards, hurt and confusion spreading across her face. Tears well up in the redhead’s eyes, slipping down her cheeks.

Beca feels her stomach twist, because _fuck_ , she never meant to make Chloe cry. She can’t deal with crying. Especially not from Chloe.

“Am I just another one night stand?” Beca asks, her voice quietening to a near-whisper. She doesn’t want to hear the answer. If Chloe says yes, she doesn’t know what she’ll do.

“Beca, no. It’s not like that,” Chloe admits, sighing heavily. Beca let’s out a relieved breath, her gaze dropping down to the floor.

“Then why were you going to leave?” The question is soft and timid, like she’s afraid to ask. Chloe’s stomach twists with guilt, shame colouring her cheeks.

“Because it would never work out,” she explains, sighing. “People find me annoying. I’m too happy, too bubbly. I don’t understand the concept of personal space. I’m too pushy, I’m too…” she trails off, tears rolling down her cheeks. Beca’s head snaps back up to look at her, eyes softening.

She seems to understand where Chloe’s coming from, because she places a comforting hand on the redhead’s arm, rubbing soothing circles. She still doesn’t know how to stop the tears, but she knows how Chloe feels. She understands.

“Chlo, I get it. I’ve told you what people say about me. I may be the opposite of cheery, but I get it. You think I’m not worried? I’m terrified. Terrified that you’ll get tired of my prickly exterior and decide I can’t give you what you want.” Beca feels vulnerable, something she hates, but she knows that if this is going to work, it’s something she’ll have to deal with. To show Chloe she’s serious, a little emotion is necessary.

“Becs, that’s not true. I won’t. You’re perfect just the way you are,” Chloe says softly, smiling. She cups Beca’s cheek and rubs her thumb over her cheekbone gently.

“And that’s how I feel about you. I think you’re wonderful and perfect.”

“Oh _Becs_ ,” Chloe breathes, stepping closer to the tiny brunette. Unable to help herself, she tilts her head down and captures Beca’s lips.

Beca kisses back with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around Chloe’s waist. Their lips slide over each other, tongues dancing slowly. They kiss and kiss until they can’t breathe, finally pulling away with swollen lips and darkened eyes.

“We can make this work,” Chloe whispers. Beca thinks she’s right.


	38. cupcake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #38:  
> I want Chloe to win a bet and what she wins is that she picks an activity (could be for a date if they are together or before they get together) with Beca and she gotta do it without arguing and pouting. So Chloe chooses baking cupcakes and at one point she says Beca is her favorite cupcake and it's all touchy nosey and fluffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for a request on tumblr (and instead of doing quantitative chem)

“You won’t win,” Beca says confidently, smirking at Chloe. They’ve made a bet on whether Fat Amy will be able to pick this guy up at the bar they’re at. (Yes, Chloe had suggested a girls night out and, despite Beca’s stubborn refusal to set foot outside the house, she’d come ‘for Chloe’. It was the redhead’s adorable puppy eyes that did the trick. They work every time.)

“Don’t be so sure!” Chloe giggles, glancing sideways at her girlfriend. Beca doesn’t look; her gaze is trained on their blonde friend as she makes her way towards the guy at the bar.

There’s no way she’ll manage it. Amy always manages to put a man off before she has a chance to entice them with tales of her sexual prowess. But Chloe thinks otherwise, for some reason.

If Fat Amy comes away alone, Beca gets to choose an activity for the both of them to do, like a date of some kinda. The brunette really wants to take Chloe ice skating, but the redhead simply refuses, mumbling about an embarrassing story from her childhood.

If Fat Amy comes away, handsome man in tow, Chloe gets to choose. Beca has no idea what her girlfriend will choose as her activity, because she’s already persuaded Beca to do most things the brunette would have previously said no to.

“Chlo, there’s no way–” Beca’s cut off as Fat Amy yells triumphantly, turning to her friends with a wide grin on her face. This triggers Chloe’s own smug smile as she turns to Beca, who’s staring with her mouth open. _Shit_. She’d been wrong.

“Well well well, who’s laughing now?” Chloe says cockily, cupping her girlfriend’s jaw. She shuts her mouth, smirking as Beca scrunches her face up and shrinks away from her touch.

“Fine,” Beca grumbles, taking a long swig of beer from the glass in her hand. She ends up chugging it all, because damn, she’s really not drunk enough.

“You’ll love it!” Chloe promises, pecking the brunette’s lips chastely before sauntering off to order another round of drinks. Beca stares after her, wondering what the hell the redhead is planning.

Stupid fucking bet.

* * *

Beca stares silently at the note taped to her door.

_Becs, come to the kitchen at 2pm! Just bring your sugary little self! - Chlo xo_

The note definitely give away any explicit clues, but the brunette has a sneaky suspicion that this ‘activity’ involves sugar. Baking perhaps? Beca _hates_ baking. She has good reason though; she’s absolutely _shit_ at it. Everything she’s ever tried to bake has either fallen apart, burned, or tasted like trash.

Chloe knows this, so why she may have chosen baking, Beca has no idea. The thing is, she’s not allowed to grumble or complain about it. It was one of the rules they agreed while negotiating the prize for winning the silly bet.

It’s currently 1:57, so Beca pads down the stairs in her fluffy socks. (They’re black okay? Just because she’s a badass, it doesn’t mean she has to live with cold feet.)

“Chlo?” Beca asks, knocking gingerly on the kitchen door. A muffled reply sounds from the other side, followed by the sound of thumping and a small cry. Suddenly worried, Beca opens the door.

The sight that meets her eyes is… interesting, to say the least. A fine white powder covers the counter, a spilled bag of flour lying guiltily on the floor. Chloe’s standing in front of it, flour dusting her hair and cheeks.

She spins round when she hears Beca ask if she’s okay, unknowingly rubbing her flour-covered hands on her apron. “I planned to bake cupcakes,” she explains, pouting miserably.

No matter how much Beca hates baking, a sad Chloe is definitely worse. “Oh babe,” she says softly, stepping carefully towards her girlfriend. “Come on, let’s clean up. Then we can start fresh.”

“But you hate baking? You should be happy.” Chloe stares at Beca, confusion shining in her eyes. The brunette sighs and takes the redhead’s powdered hands in hers.

“I love you, and if you want to bake, then we shall bake. You won the bet, after all,” Beca says, shrugging. She presses a chaste kiss to Chloe’s lips, pulling away when she tastes flour. “Ew.”

Chloe giggles, and Beca knows she’d happily eat flour just to hear the gorgeous sound. “You can be my cupcake instead,” Chloe teases, sneakily grabbing a handful of flour and blowing it in Beca’s face.

Beca’s jaw drops, shocked. “Are you asking for a fight?” She asks, a mischievous grin spreading across her lips.

“I don’t know, are you?” Chloe shoots back, ducking as the empty bag of flour is thrown her way.


	39. treat you better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #39:  
> Can you do a Bechloe oneshot after pp3 where Chloe is with Chicago? They all go to a karaoke bar, Beca gets drunk/tipsy and sings ‘treat you better’ by Shawn Mendes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for a request on tumblr — follow my pitch perfect blog @annaakendriick

Beca doesn’t know what she’s doing. Okay that’s not exactly true. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she just can’t seem to stop herself. And it’s all because of _him_. Chicago Walp. What kind of surname is ‘Walp’ anyway?

She may or may not be extremely drunk, absolutely smashed, in fact. Fat Amy and Aubrey have tried to limit her alcohol intake, knowing the state she’s in, but it hasn’t worked. She’s always managed to get her hands on some kind of drink. She thinks she’s stolen more than a few from other people, but she can’t be sure.

Just looking at _them_ makes her feel sick to the stomach. Chloe and Chicago. The thought makes tears prick at the corners of eyes and causes her insides to twist and turn like a roller-coaster.

She’d been on her way to tell Chloe her feelings, courtesy of Aubrey. The blonde had confronted her after the performance, demanding to know what was going on, and why she’d stared at her while singing certain lyrics of _Freedom! ‘90_.

Beca had been so emotional she’d totally broken down, confessing anything and everything there was to tell about her seven year love for Chloe. Aubrey had been more understanding than she thought. She’d hugged her tightly and whispered soothing words till her wracking sobs became soft hiccups.

Aubrey had talked to her, advised her, encouraged her. She’d told Beca that Chloe loved her too, and had been waiting for her for years. At this news, the tiny brunette had leaped up, running from the hotel in search of the redhead.

And of course, she’d found her sticking her tongue down Chicago’s throat.

Beca had watched, her heart breaking and shattering where she stood as she watched the love of her life kiss a stranger. She watched as Chloe pulled away and giggled at the man’s joke.

As soon as Chloe had turned round, breathing her name with a shaky exhale, Beca ran. She couldn’t bear to stare at those gorgeous kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks, knowing it wasn’t that had caused it.

She’d gone straight back to Aubrey, crumpling into her arms in a fit of tears. The blonde had held her till she’d dozed off, exhausted from the events of the day.

When Beca had woken, tear tracks still glistening on her cheeks, Aubrey told her they were going out. There’d been a soft warning that Chicago was taking them to a bar, but the brunette had glossed over it. Instead, she’d put on her nicest blouse and black jeans, determined not to look as broken as she felt.

And so, once at the bar, Beca had proceeded to get shitfaced drunk. Chloe had ignored her all evening, draping herself over Chicago all night. The brunette was sure she’d seen them making out more than a few times, pressed against a wall.

A shudder runs through her at the memory.

Now here she is, swaying dangerously as she stumbles up to the stage. She wants to sing. To Chloe. For Chloe. She wants to sing about how fucking dumb Chicago is, and how much better she could treat the gorgeous redhead.

A sober version of herself would definitely not be doing this, but then again, if she was sober she’d be curled up in a ball under her duvet. But she’s not sober, she’s drunk, beyond drunk.

So to her, singing now is a brilliant idea. The perfect way to express how she feels. It doesn’t occur to her that Chloe’s currently staring up at her from her seat next to Chicago. It doesn’t occur to her that Chloe’s only had two drinks, and is therefore still sober. It doesn’t occur to her what the consequences of her actions will be.

Grabbing the microphone, Beca clears her throat. The music begins to play, filtering out through the speakers. Her eyes involuntarily jump to Chloe, her stomach lurching at the sight of Chicago’s possessive hand round her waist.

 _I won’t lie to you_  
I know he’s just not right for you  
And you can tell me if I’m off   But I see it on your face  
When you say that he’s the one that you want  
And you’re spending all your time  
In this wrong situation  
And anytime you want it to stop

Chloe stares at her, blue eyes twinkling in the dim lights. Beca thinks she’s crying. Maybe she is. This thought makes her aware of her own tears slipping down her cheeks, falling to the floor as she sings.

When Chicago’s arm tightens around the redhead’s waist and Chloe pushes the offending limb away, Beca can’t help but smile triumphantly. The look on the man’s face somehow makes the whole evening a fraction better. _  
_

_I know I can treat you better than he can_  
And any girl like you deserves a gentleman  
Tell me why are we wasting time  
On all your wasted crying  
When you should be with me instead  
I know I can treat you better  
Better than he can

Aubrey watches, concern painting her features. She’s worried, Beca can tell. It suddenly occurs to her that what she’s doing is stupid and pointless, and will only come back to haunt her. If she continues, Chloe might catch on and she’ll be exposed.

With a jerk, Beca drops the microphone. It crashes to the floor, the sound echoing through the suddenly quiet bar. Before any questions can be asked, the brunette tears from the stage and into the crowd. She pushes her way through, making a beeline for the exit.

She drops down onto the wall outside, the mild air wrapping its comforting arms around her as she chokes on a sob. The door swings open behind her, and she hastily wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Beca?”

It’s Chloe. Of course it is. Of course she’d be the one to follow her.

Beca exhales sharply and twists her head round to stare at her friend. Chloe looks angelic, the light of the moon creating a halo round her head like an angel. Her cerulean eyes twinkle, a nervous smile playing at her lips. Beca smiles, because it’s Chloe, and she can’t help it.

Stupid feelings.

“What do you want?” Beca huffs, her tone flat despite her sudden burst of love at seeing Chloe so close for the first time that night.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks tentatively. She sits down next to Beca, leaving a few inches between them. Beca feels another surge of feeling at Chloe’s respect of her need for personal space when she’s upset.

She shrugs, not knowing what to say. What _is_ there to say?

“You can tell me anything.” And there’s that signature Chloe smile again. Beca’s insides flip, her stomach churning as her mind flits back and forth over whether to be honest. She’s always prided herself on how truthful she’s able to be around Chloe, and she doesn’t want to change that. Her feelings can’t stay secret forever.

And so, with a deep breath, she tells her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could only get the first line of song lyrics to stay in italics. for some reason that rest simply refuses to do as it’s told.


	40. wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #40:  
> “we’re the only single people at this wedding lets get drunk and bitch about everyone” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow @annaakendriick on tumblr for more! hmu with a prompt if you want, and i’ll write it!

Beca stares around the hall, trying to find someone, _anyone_ , who doesn’t have a partner. So far, everyone she’s met is either married, engaged, or dating someone. She has no one, and has been single for ten years. It never bothered her until now. Suddenly she feels lonely, and she hates it.

Stupid fucking wedding.

It’s Emily’s fault. They’re barely friends. Well, the bride probably has a slightly different idea of how things are, but Beca doesn’t consider them particularly close. Just because she produced Emily’s first album, it doesn’t mean she needs an invite to her wedding.

Beca hates weddings.

The happiness, the people, the cake, the ceremony, the dress code, everything. It’s such an effort. She appreciates that it’s a happy occasion to celebrate love, but the whole reception thing really is pushing it.

Grumbling under her breath, Beca sits down in her allocated seat, surrounded by people she’s never heard of. She’s in the middle of a “Jesse Swanson” and a “Chloe Beale”. They’re probably both dating someone. And she’ll end up being alone, yet again.

She really doesn’t know why she’s so surprised. She’s always been alone. Now is no different. Pretending won’t change anything.

Dropping her chin into the palm of her hand, she stares around at the happy couples socialising around her. She’s probably the only person not talking to someone. She supposes sitting alone could be considered rude, since she’s not exactly making an effort, but she really couldn’t give two shits right now.

She wants to go home, back to the warmth and safety of her cosy apartment. Preferably with a blanket and some popcorn, in front of an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

She’s still busy being moody when a woman with curled ginger hair sits down in the seat next to her. Beca can only see our of the corner her eye, but from what she can see, this woman — she’s guessing she’s the “Chloe Beale” she saw on the name card.

“Hi! I’m Chloe,” the redhead greets, placing a soft hand on Beca’s forearm to catch her attention. The brunette turns her head, the almost permanent frown not leaving her face. (She’s extremely stressed these days; she’s producing and writing her own album.)

Beca looks Chloe up and down, unable to stop herself appreciating the gorgeous curves. Even though the redhead is sitting down, Beca can see the way the pale dress hugs her body like a glove. A very tight glove.

She snaps out of her trance, ignoring Chloe’s smirk. The woman is probably dating someone anyway, it’s not like Beca’s not-so-subtle staring will change anything. _Take your eyes off the (probably) taken woman, Mitchell._

“And I’m lonely,” she grumbles in response, her gaze flitting round the room as she waits for Chloe’s reply.

“Then I can keep you company,” is the quick response, the tone light and hopeful. Beca’s eyes snap back to Chloe’s face, searching it for any kind of joke. There’s no way Chloe Beale is single. It’s… _impossible_.

“You’re single?” The question is asked with a sense of incredulity, as if she can’t quite believe it.

“Yeah; I have been for a few years now,” Chloe says, sipping at her glass of wine. Beca’s now regretting her decision to struggle through this while sober. She’s defintely ordering a drink (or ten) if she’s spending the day with Chloe. The woman is practically a goddess.

“Are you kidding me? How is that even possible? I mean you’re—you’re _stunning_. I don’t… People must be chasing after you.” Beca’s gripping her thigh tightly under the table, trying to contain the rest of her outburst. It’s just waiting to happen, she can feel it. She’s not usually one to show her emotions, let alone straight-up tell someone they’re gorgeous.

“You really think that?” Chloe sounds so surprised it almost breaks Beca’s heart — but then she remembers they barely know each other, and she forces the feeling away.

“Dude, of course I do. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” Beca says honestly, her stomach flipping when Chloe smiles at her. It’s this wide, joyful smile and it hits the brunette straight in the chest. It makes her feel light and warm and more than she’s felt in _years_. Maybe in her whole life.

And she’s not even kidding.

Before Chloe can respond, Beca catches the waiter’s attention and orders them some cocktails. (Of course Emily isn’t serving shots at her wedding. That girl is way too innocent for twenty-two. Beca’s pretty sure she still doesn’t know what an orgy is, bless her.)

“Thank you,” Chloe says once the waiter is gone, placing a friendly hand — Beca has to remind herself that yes, it’s only a _friendly_ hand, nothing more — on the brunette’s forearm.

“For what?”

“For saying those things about me. Other people haven’t been so kind,” the redhead confesses, glancing down. She looks back up with misty eyes and a watery smile.

“Shit, don’t cry. No no _no_ I am _not_ drunk enough for tears. Hell, I’m not even drunk yet! No crying Chloe Beale,” Beca scolds, feigning anger. Chloe giggles at the act, the gorgeous melody filling Beca’s ears.

 _God_ , she may just have a tiny crush on this woman. It’s only tiny, of course. Definitely not a raging lady boner.

“You’re so funny Becs.” The redhead smiles brightly, her eyes twinkling. Beca’s definitely in trouble. Shit. Chloe is probably straight. Double shit.

Goddammit, why do her feelings always make things so difficult?

The drinks come then, brought on a silver tray by a smartly dressed man. Beca remembers that they’re at a wedding, and not just friends catching up. It feels like they’re friends, like they’ve known each other for years. There’s just something about Chloe that’s so intriguing and Beca doesn’t even care how far she falls anymore.

They both knock back their cocktails faster than what’s probably socially acceptable at a wedding, and order two more each from a different waiter.

“So, how come you’re here?” Chloe asks, her cheeks already a little flushed from the cocktails and wine. Beca’s still very much sober, too sober to be having this conversation, but it’s Chloe, so it doesn’t matter.

“Ugh, no idea,” she groans. “I produced Emily’s album. We aren’t even friends; I don’t know why she invited me.”

“Wait, you’re _the_ Beca Mitchell?” Chloe looks surprised, shocked even, and perhaps a little bit in awe. Beca’s used to the looks, she’s not exactly unknown.

(What she means by that, is she’s produced albums for artists like Rihanna, Lady Gaga and even Beyoncé. She likes to be humble, though. She worked extremely hard to get where she is now. It certainly wasn’t handed to her on a silver platter.)

“Um, yeah,” Beca replies, hoping that Chloe won’t turn out to be someone who suddenly loves her because she’s famous. She doesn’t want that.

“That’s awesome!” The redhead just grins and takes another sip of wine, so Beca relaxes. Clearly Chloe has no intentions to try and get anything from her, and she isn’t going to comment on it further. _Thank god._

“So how do you know Emily?”

“We went to school together, actually. We were all part of an a capella group. She took over as captain when myself and my co-captain Aubrey left,” Chloe explains, smiling fondly at the memory. Beca smiles too, because the redhead looks so gorgeous and angelic that she can’t help it.

God, she _really_ needs more drinks.

Luckily, the drinks come seconds later, and are gone in a minute. Beca can start to feel the effect of the three cocktails kicking in.

(They’re quite strong actually, so Beca has to give Emily a little credit. But when she thinks about it, Sami was probably the one to insist they served them.

Sami is Emily’s wife. New wife. Sami was one of the new Bellas Emily recruited when the others graduated, and they’d clicked straight away. It had all gone from there, apparently.)

“I have a game,” Beca announces, grabbing Chloe’s wine and taking a large gulp. She did it without thinking, and now she realises she looks a little rude. Or stupid. Or both. Definitely both. Chloe doesn’t seem to care though, since she just smirks.

“Go on,” the redhead prompts.

“How about we bitch about the guests we don’t like. I don’t know any, but I bet you do. Who don’t you like?”

Chloe seems to love the idea, since she leans forward excitedly in her seat and drops her chin into her hands. Her lips form a cute pout as she thinks, eyes scanning round the room as she tries to figure out who to start with.

“Him,” she finally says, pointing subtly at an extenely average looking guy with his arm wrapped round the waist of a significantly better looking woman.

“Who is he? Why do you hate him?” Beca asks curiously, scrunching her nose up as she stares at him. He’s not exactly great to look at. She looks away, instead choosing to watch Chloe. She’s _definitely_ great to look at. More than great.

“His name is Tom. We dated, back in college. He’s only here because his girlfriend was in The Bellas when Emily was. Clara’s actually super sweet, and he doesn’t deserve her. He’s a dick.” Chloe says the last word with distaste, unable to stop the disgusted expression that takes over her face.

“Ooh what did he do?” Beca’s already finding this “game” entertaining, and she thinks that just a bit more alcohol, juicy stories and more time with Chloe will make the stupid wedding reception better that it was when she was alone.

“The prick cheated on me with this ditzy blonde I can’t even remember the name of. God, I remember catching him. I was devastated at the time, but now I realise what an asshole he was.” Chloe glares in Tom’s direction, and Beca can’t help her lazy smile at the intensity of the murderous look.

“Damn, what a bastard,” she comments, taking another gulp of Chloe’s wine. It’s practically begging to be drunk, okay? “Next person?”

“Ooh! Her! I think her name is Tamara or some shit. Basically…”

And Beca listens, cheeks flushed a healthy pink from the alcohol, her pupils dilating. She watches as Chloe recalls the horrific tale (it’s not really) of what the bitch did to her.

She listens and she watches and she falls, slowly but surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mention of b99 because it’s my favourite show evER


	41. protective (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #41:  
> I was wondering if you maybe wanted to write a bechloe b99 type AU? Short or long it doesn’t matter!! But I was thinking like maybe they’re detectives (like Jake and Amy) and are pretending to date as a cover for a case and they have to kiss and end up realizing their feelings and fall in love and all that wonderful Jake and Amy B99 funniness and adorableness but with Beca and Chloe??? I think you would do the most AMAZING job!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for BechloePitches  
> as soon as i got this prompt i just knew i had to write it! i meant to finish and upload it yesterday, but i was busy. enjoy! i hope it’s what you hoped for!

“Mitchell, I’m assigning you the drug case. I need you to go on a stakeout to catch the exchange,” Aubrey instructs, flicking to the slide with the details. Beca looks up sharply from where she’d been drawing an intricate doodle on her arm. She hasn’t been assigned a proper case since…

“What? Alone?” She can’t believe Aubrey is finally trusting her to handle something relatively big, even after her fuck up. Three months of desk duty and petty crime have her bored beyond belief. Her only source of entertainment comes from Amy, who fools around constantly. It’s a wonder Aubrey hasn’t fired her yet.

“No, I’m sending Beale with you,” the blonde Captain says, bringing Beca out of her internal celebration. Great. So she’s still not trusted not to do her job properly.

“But—” she begins, ready to argue. She doesn’t care that the room is full of her fellow detectives; she wants to be trusted again. She’s tired of getting handed all the shitty cases like she’s some rookie. She’s damn good at her job, and she knows it. That one time had been a very unfortunate mistake, but it really wasn’t her fault, and Aubrey knows it.

“No buts! You fucked up once, who knows what’ll happen this time,” Aubrey snaps, glaring at Beca. The brunette shoots up from her chair and slams her hands on the table, scowling furiously. She’s fucking sick of Aubrey walking round like she’s a god of some sort. Just because she’s the captain, it doesn’t mean she can order people round like slaves.

“I was stabbed! It’s hardly my fault the perp got away!” Beca yells, watching as Aubrey narrows her eyes into thin slits. Shit. She’s in trouble. Aubrey narrowing her eyes is warning sign number one.

“Aubrey—“ Chloe begins from her seat, her tone calm but firm. She knows what will happen if their Captain gets angry. Trust Beca to provoke her like that.

“Get out, Mitchell! You’re going with Beale, and that’s final. Don’t come back until you’ve caught the dealer,” Aubrey snaps, her tone venomous. Beca, knowing nothing she says now will calm the blonde down, turns and stomps out of the room.

Chloe watches as the small brunette leave, a small knot of sympathy forming in her stomach. Even though she’s the precincts Sergeant, she’s still been on the receiving end of Aubrey’s wrath more than once.

Beca’s not exactly the cleverest for thinking she could change the Captain’s opinion, but Aubrey really is too mean to the small detective. It’s like she has a personal vendetta against her.

Chloe rises silently from her chair, unable to watch Beca leave angrily without following her. They're friends, she thinks. Well, she sure hopes so.

Beca joined their precinct a few months ago; she transferred from the 4-3 after she was subject to some nasty sexual harassment. Of course, Chloe is the only one who knows that. Beca’s not exactly forthcoming about sharing things, and it’s taken three months for the redhead to form a crack in those walls of steel.

They meet up for drinks and cuddle while they watch movies, so Chloe would definitely say they’re friends. Perhaps they’re a little more than that. They’ve found themselves in a rather compromising position more than once.

Their casual flirting isn’t unnoticed by their fellow officers, and unbeknownst to both Beca and Chloe, they have a secret betting pool as to when they’ll get together.

Chloe hates watching Beca get angry, because she makes rash decisions when she is, and the redhead doesn’t want her making any stupid choices right now.

Aubrey doesn’t protest as she follows the brunette from the room, heading straight for the roof where she knows Beca will be. She climbs the stairs and pushes the door open when she reaches the top. It’s cold out — it is January after all — and Beca’s only in a shirt. Thankfully she had the common sense to wear a jumper, but she guesses the small woman didn’t really think to grab it as she stormed off.

“Becs,” Chloe says softly, her breath forming a wispy white cloud in the cold air. Beca turns, her expression flat as she regards the redhead.

“What do you want? Here to tell me I’m best off working the case with you?” She says sarcastically, spinning back round as her voice cracks. Chloe’s face falls, her stomach dropping as she advances towards her best friend.

“What? Beca, no. I came here to see if you were okay. Aubrey’s wrong to keep treating you like shit. It wasn’t your fault,” Chloe says gently, placing a comforting hand on Beca’s forearm. The brunette doesn’t flinch away from her touch like she would have done three months ago. This time, she almost leans into the touch.

Beca sighs heavily, looking out over the New York skyline. “Thank you, Chloe. I’m sorry for snapping at you,” she says, guilt lacing her tone.

“It’s cool, don’t worry. I can’t imagine how it feels.” They both stare into the distance, the cool air wrapping round them as silence hangs in the air. A shiver runs through Beca, and her hands tremble as she adjusts her grip on the safety railing.

“Come on, let’s go and catch a drug dealer.” Chloe touches Beca’s shoulder casually, turning to head back into the precinct. The brunette nods silently and follows, folding her arms across her chest as she shivers again.

Time to get her mind off Aubrey and her shitty attitude towards her.

* * *

“There’s Derek,” Chloe whispers, looking over her shoulder at Beca, who’s stood just centimetres behind her. She can feel the brunette’s breasts pressing into her back, their legs touching.

It makes her stomach twist, because she knows she’s never going to be able to have what she wants. Beca. The smaller detective is most certainly straight, and would probably hate her if she found out she liked her.

Chloe knows all about Beca’s issues with personal space, relationships, and people in general. While Beca may have lowered her walls a fraction for her, the redhead knows that confessing her feelings would change things between them forever.

There would be no cuddling while binge-watching Friends, no sharing tubs of ice cream after a hard day, no drinking bottles of beer after a good win. There would be none of that. And she’s not willing to sacrifice that to admit her feelings. She’d rather have Beca in some way than not have her at all.

Looks like she’ll be keeping her mouth shut for the foreseeable future then.

“Beale, focus,” Beca hisses, jabbing the redhead in the side. Chloe’s just staring out into the distance looking… lost. In a daydream, perhaps. But there’s no time for dreams of any kind right now. They have to catch this dirty dealer.

“Sorry,” Chloe whispers back, snapping out of her lovesick trance. Beca’s right, she needs to focus and not get distracted by the brunette’s breasts _still_ against her back. It’s cold and she can almost feel Beca’s hardened nipples through her jumper. It’s driving her insane. It’s taking all the willpower she has not to jump on her bones.

“There he is.” Beca presses herself harder against Chloe as she strains to see what’s going on. The redhead clenches her jaw and doesn’t look round, instead fixing her eyes on the dealer in front of them. “Shall we catch him? Before he goes?”

“Yeah, one sec. We should wait till he hands over the drugs, just to be sure,” Chloe replies, looking over her shoulder. She shuffles backwards as Beca moves forwards, and the brunette loses her balance. She stumbles out from behind the tree, right into the open.

A sharp cry escapes the small detective’s lips, attracting the attention of the dealer and buyer, and Chloe doesn’t know what to do. Thankfully they’re not in uniform — it would have been a bad idea to let them know they’re cops from a quick glance — but now they’re exposed.

The only thing she can think of would mean taking a huge risk, and crossing a line. If she does this, they’re never going back. Their friendship will never be the same. Beca will hate her, and her life will be ruined. She’ll probably end up leaving, moving to a remote town and—

There’s no time to dwell on what may or may not happen. She has to act fast. They can still salvage this if she takes this risk. Aubrey will have both their heads if they fuck this up, and it’s not about to happen on her watch.

Stepping forwards, Chloe pulls Beca into her arms and presses a firm kiss to her lips. The brunette freezes underneath her, momentarily paralysed as Chloe runs her tongue over her bottom lip. Chloe hopes that Beca will catch on and start kissing her back; she’s highly aware that they’re currently being watched. It will look suspicious if Beca doesn’t reciprocate.

But then the small woman relaxes in her arms, leaning into the kiss. Chloe slips her tongue into Beca’s mouth, their lips sliding together as their tongues dance. The redhead pushes Beca back against the tree trunk, moaning into her mouth as she presses herself flush against the brunette.

Drug dealer forgotten, Chloe runs her hands up Beca’s sides, itching to get her jumper off. She gets distracted when Beca tips her head back, exposing the smooth expanse of her creamy neck. The redhead presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down her neck, sucking lightly on Beca’s pulse point as they both moan.

But suddenly Beca’s whole body tenses, and she stops. She pushes Chloe away, breathing heavily. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips swollen, both telltale signs of just how much she’d enjoyed the kiss.

They stare at each other, the air so tense Chloe wants to scream. She’s ruined things. Beca probably hates her now. The small voice in the back of her mind telling her that maybe Beca liked her back was pushed to the side as she dropped her gaze to the grass.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, the words shattering the silence like a sledgehammer. Beca doesn’t reply for a few seconds, and when Chloe looks back up at her, she catches the woman staring at her almost curiously.

“It’s okay. You did what you had to do,” Beca says with a sharp nod, the movement jerky and uncertain. Chloe’s stomach drops and curls, twisting round and round as she stares at her best friend.

 _Fuck_. She didn’t realise how much it would hurt. She can’t believe she ruined their friendship because of a stupid kiss to save their cover. Fuck this.

“Is he still there?” Beca asks, her tone suggesting she’s fallen back into work mode. Chloe just grits her teeth and tries to push the incident to the back of her mind, knowing she had to focus on work right now.

“Yeah, he-he’s still there,” she mumbles, pressing her cold hands to her warm cheeks to try and cool them down. Her heart won’t stop beating rapidly, the beat so intense she can practically hear it in her ears.

“Then let’s go,” Beca says, pulling her gun from her holster. She steps out from behind the tree, running towards the drug dealer with her gun outstretched. “NYPD you’re under arrest!” She yells, breaking into a sprint as the man tries to run away.

Chloe follows, right behind Beca as they chase the man down an alley. He jumps over a low fence and into a carpark, sliding over the bonnet of a car. The two detectives continue to chase, closing in on him as he heads for another alley.

When he reaches the end of the narrow path, he realises he has nowhere to go. It’s a dead end. Beca and Chloe hold up their guns, pointing them at his chest as he backs into the brick wall.

And then he pulls out his own goddamn gun.

Brilliant.

“Put down your weapon,” Beca instructs, nodding to the handgun. The man just smirks and points it at her, his finger resting on the trigger.

“No can do,” he teases, chuckling to himself. He looks way too smug for his own good, and Beca wants to punch that annoying little smirk off his face.

“She said _drop it,_ ” Chloe says forcefully, taking a step towards the man. He flips his gun in his hand, clearly enjoying the conversation. Neither of the detectives have no idea why.

“Take another step and I’ll shoot your little girlfriend,” he sneers, aiming his gun at Beca. Chloe feels her need to protect the brunette rise and roar within her, sparking a fire in her heart. It spreads through her veins like poison, and her face contorts in anger.

“Don’t you _dare_ threaten her,” she screams, her hands shaking. Beca watches, surprised at the enthusiasm Chloe defended her with. She knows they’re best friends, but it seems a little too protective for it to be just that.

She tries not to think about the kiss. It… awoke something inside her. It opened her eyes to how she felt about Chloe. Finally it all makes sense. She loves Chloe, and she has from day one.

But Chloe only kissed her to save the case, nothing more. Beca knows she has to push it from her mind, because if she doesn’t, it’s going to eat her up from inside.

“Ooh, a little protective are we?” The man taunts, waving the gun around. Chloe glares at him fiercely, her finger twitching over the trigger of her gun. She wants to, but she can’t.

“Stop,” Chloe says, stepping forwards.

“Oops, I said not to take another step,” he warns, just before pointing the gun at Beca and pulling the trigger.

All Beca sees is Chloe diving towards her before her world goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two? yes? no?


	42. protective (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #42:  
> I KNEW you would write an absolutely perfect b99 AU!!!! *heart eyes* I am absolutely in LOVE with this!!! Please please please write a part two!!! Now that Beca knows she likes Chloe I need them to end up happy and not killed by a drug dealer? Please? Maybe? Thank you so much for writing this prompt!! It’s perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [BechloePitches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BechloePitches)  
> and here is the highly demanded part two! enjoy :)
> 
> tw: mild violence

“Don’t you dare move,” Chloe growls at the man, unable to tear her eyes from where Beca’s lying, unmoving on the ground. She called for backup, knowing she can’t bring this guy in alone. She’s highly aware that her best friend is dying, and she needs to be by her side.

The ambulance she called is on its way, but she has to make sure the dealer doesn’t get away before she diverts her attention. It gnaws away at her gut, knowing that Beca’s losing too much blood, the life slowly draining out of her.

If the brunette dies, it’ll be her fault.

Tears prick at her eyes, sliding down her cheeks as she keeps her gun aimed at the man. She doesn’t look to her left, fearing that if she does, she’ll run to her. She doesn’t know how she’s controlling herself right now.

“Chloe!” A voice yells from behind her, and Chloe breathes a heavy sigh of relief because Stacie and Cynthia-Rose are finally here. The two detectives emerge from the alley, guns pointed ahead of them.

They exchange a quick glance with Chloe, silently telling her that they’d handle the arrest. Choking back a sob, Chloe drops her gun like it’s burning through her hand, watching as it falls to the ground with a clatter.

She’s immobile for a second, staring at the gun with a sense of hatred. That thing hurt the one she loves. Her heart cracks, and the sound of the metal hitting the ground spurs her back into motion.

Chloe rushes over to Beca and flings herself down beside her, moving her hands to the brunette’s pale cheeks. Shit. She’s unconscious. Panic rising within her, Chloe moves two fingers to Beca’s wrist to try and find a pulse.

Nothing.

Crying out, she moves her hands directly over Beca’s heart. She sobs with relief. A pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there, and she could not be more thankful. They still have time to save her.

Blood seeps out from Beca’s stomach, coating the gravel, soaking through her clothes. Chloe rips off her jumper and presses it to the wound, trying to stem the blood flow as best she can.

”Shh, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” she whispers soothingly, her voice shaking. She knows Beca’s unconscious but she still feels the need to comfort her as though she were awake.

Sirens scream in the background, but Chloe barely hears them. All she can hear is her heart pounding in her eyes, the blood rushing round her body as tears flow down her face uncontrollably.

She focuses on the shallow rise and fall of Beca’s chest, hoping that she doesn’t stop breathing. She prays to every God possible, begging one of them to spare Beca from death.

When the EMTs arrive, she’s dragged away from Beca, held back as she screams and shouts for them to let her stay with the brunette. She kicks and yells until they give in, allowing her to sit in the back of the ambulance.

With her heart in her throat, Chloe clings onto the handrail as the vehicle speeds off, sirens blaring.

* * *

Chloe’s been pacing for four hours now. They wheeled Beca away the second they set foot into the hospital, telling her to be patient and wait. How can she “be patient” when the woman she loves may be dying. And it’s all her fault.

If only she’d gone to her before she fell unconscious. Perhaps she’d have been able to keep her awake. Chloe’s stomach twists and churns with guilt as she slows to a stop. She’s surprised she hasn’t worn a hole in the floor yet.

“Chloe!” She hears; Emily. Chloe looks round to see her fellow detectives walk briskly through the doors. Emily, the youngest of the bunch, runs towards her, enveloping her in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, tears slipping down her cheeks. Chloe wraps her arms round Emily’s waist and lets out a sob, face buried in the brunette’s shoulder.

Stacie, Cynthia-Rose, Lilly, Amy and Aubrey all gather round, tears in their eyes. Even Aubrey, which is an immense surprise. Chloe pulls away from Emily and looks round at her friends, eyes puffy and cheeks blotchy.

“I’ve been waiting for so long,” she chokes out, hands trembling as she wipes away her steadily flowing tears. “I don’t— what if she doesn’t…”

“She _will_ ,” Stacie interrupts, her voice firm despite the nasally tone to it. She’s also been crying. Tear tracks glisten on her cheeks as she gives Chloe a small hug.

“Beca’s a fighter,” Fat Amy says, her face solemn for once. “She won’t give up without a goddamn fight.”

They all want to believe the words, they really do, but the truth is, they just don’t know. Anything could be happening in that operating room. It’s all a matter of time.

A few of them sit down, all gripping each other’s hands in support. Aubrey approaches Chloe slowly, her expression grave. “Chloe, I—“

“Going to say it’s her fault again, are you?” Chloe snaps, turning away from her Captain. She clenches her jaw and fresh tears spring into her eyes. Aubrey’s face falls, and she takes a deep breath.

“No, I’m not,” the blonde says honestly. “I was going to say I was sorry that this happened. I know how much she means to you.” Aubrey places a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, encouraging her to turn back round. The redhead does so, a small frown on her face.

“You hate her,” Chloe points out, folding her arms across her chest. Aubrey grits her teeth and sighs, pressing her fingers to the bridge of nose.

“I don’t hate her, I just dislike her,” Aubrey admits, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t like her attitude towards things. I agree I’ve been too harsh though. I plan on apologising as soon as I see her.”

“Really?” Chloe asks, eyes widening in surprise. It’s certainly not like Aubrey to admit when she’s wrong. This is new. “Why now?” She wants to believe the blonde Captain, she really does, but something in her is reluctant to trust her the way she’s treated Beca for the past months.

“I guess the reality of her possibly dying has opened my eyes. She doesn’t deserve all the shit I throw at her. I’m half surprised she hasn’t quit, but then again, like Amy said, she’s a fighter.” Aubrey lets out a wet chuckle, and Chloe smiles softly. The blonde reaches out and squeezes the redhead’s hand, offering silent support.

They sit down together, ready to continue waiting and hoping Beca will pull through.

* * *

“Family of Beca Mitchell?” Chloe’s head snaps up at the words, and she immediately rises from her chair and stumbles towards the nurse.

“Please, you have to let me see her,” she cries, grabbing the woman’s hands. This is her chance. She absolutely has to be allowed to see Beca.

“I’m sorry Miss, it’s family only,” the older woman says regretfully, her expression turning sympathetic when she sees Chloe’s desperation.

“I _am_ family,” Chloe blurts, half shocking herself. “I’m her girlfriend,” she lies, hoping it’ll work. The nurse looks at her, searching her eyes for a lie. After a few seconds, she nods and beckons for Chloe to follow her.

The redhead looks over her shoulder at her friends, and they all shoot her hopeful smiles and give her a collective thumbs up. Turning back to the nurse, she proceeds with a tiny smile on her face.

“She’s asleep at the moment. Don’t wake her, but you can go in,” the nurse instructs, pushing on the door handle. Chloe’s practically shaking with apprehension and excitement.

Never before has she been so excited to see Beca. She’s happy every time she gets to see the brunette, but this time the situation is a very different, and her excitement is probably justifiable.

“Thank you so much,” Chloe says gratefully, looking the nurse in the eye for a split second before pushing the door open. She steps into the room, her heart beating rapidly.

 _Fuck_.

Beca looks so tiny lying on the bed, her body drowning in a surgical gown, her skin pale, almost translucent. Chloe’s never seen the badass detective look so fragile, so vulnerable. It breaks her heart.

She rushes to the bedside, standing over Beca as she runs her eyes over the brunette’s face. Unable to help herself, she grabs Beca’s limp hand and holds it tightly, rubbing soft circles on the clammy skin.

“Oh Becs,” she breathes sadly, a few tears trickling down her cheeks at the sight of her injured colleague. “I’m so sorry.” Chloe knows it’s technically not her fault, but she still feels awful about it, and she’s sure she always will.

The gentle rise and fall of Beca’s chest, paired with the beeping of the heart rate monitor assure Chloe that the woman she loves is still alive.

Without thinking, she presses a gentle, chaste kiss to Beca’s lips. They’re warm and soft under hers, and she relishes in the feeling. As soon as she realises what she’s doing, she leaps backwards, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Shit,” she mumbles, running a hand shakily through her hair as she stares at Beca. She kissed her without her consent. _Oh god, I’m an awful person. If she doesn’t already hate me for kissing her before, she definitely will now._

“Chlo?”

Chloe looks up at the quietly spoken word, rushing forwards to Beca’s beside once more. “Beca?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahHAHAH bitches you thOUGHT this would be the end! nope, i’m making your poor souls wait a little longer *evil smile*


	43. protective (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #43:  
> final part to the requested b99 au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: panic attack

“Oh my god Becs, I’m so glad you’re alive,” Chloe breathes, gripping the bedrail till her knuckles turn white. She can barely contain her excitement, but she doesn’t want to jump on the brunette in case she’s now hated.

“I don’t give up that easily,” Beca laughs weakly, smiling as reassuringly as she can at Chloe. She can see how nervous the redhead is, how much she wants to pull her into a hug. Beca wonders why she doesn’t. What’s holding her back?

Chloe’s such a touchy-feely person, so why isn’t she hugging her? Chloe hugs her every morning at the precinct, and every evening before they leave. And at breaktimes. And lunchtimes. Chloe hugs her _all the time._

A thought hits Beca like a freight train. What if Chloe hates her for the kiss? Even though she wasn’t the one who initiated it, what if the redhead is now disgusted by what happened. What if their friendship is ruined forever?

Beca doesn’t think she could handle something like that. After joining the 6-8, she’s finally found a home in Chloe and her other friends. Finally she feels like she fits in, and everyone is so kind to her (apart from Aubrey). They welcomed her with open arms, and she owes everything to her fellow officers.

Especially Chloe.

Beca has to know if the redhead hates her. She can’t stand not knowing for a second longer. Swallowing thickly, she clears her throat. It’s dry, and she’s suddenly desperate for some water.

“Water, please,” she croaks out, bringing a hand up to touch her throat. Chloe jumps into action, rushing over to the corner of the room where there’s a sink and some cups. She fills one with water and brings it back to Beca, helping her shift in bed so she can accept the drink. She holds the cup as the brunette raises it to her lips, the cool liquid soothing her throat.

Once Beca’s drained the plastic up of water, she sits back against her pillows. She stares at Chloe, watching her brows crease and her lips drop into a frown. It’s concerning, because Chloe rarely gets upset. She’s practically always seen with a wide smile on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says quietly, staring down at her hands. She pinches the skin between her thumb and her index finger, watching as the skin turns red and sore.

“What for?” Beca’s confused. What could Chloe be sorry about? She hasn’t done anything wrong. If she’s about to blame herself for what happened, Beca has a lot to say. No way was it Chloe’s fault in _any way_.

“For kissing you like that. I didn’t ask permission, and I shouldn’t have done it. I know you said it was fine because it saved our cover, but I can’t help feeling like—“ Chloe stars, her breath catching in her throat as the words spill from her mouth. She’s rambling, too worried about explaining herself to think about how panicked and desperate she sounds.

Beca stretches an arm out, wrapping her fingers loosely around Chloe’s wrist. She pulls the redhead gently towards her bed, guiding her so she sits down beside her. She presses a finger to Chloe’s lips, silently hushing her as she tangles their fingers together with her other hand.

“Chloe, it’s okay. Really, it is. I don’t hate you. It was necessary for the case,” Beca says honestly, stroking Chloe’s wrist. She wants to confess her feelings, she really does, but what if Chloe doesn’t feel the same?

“Becs, I have to tell you something,” Chloe whispers, her voice small. She’s going to do it. She has to know. She can’t go on without knowing. It’s too hard to watch Beca everyday with that painful twist in her heart when she reminds herself that she can’t just waltz over to the brunette and kiss her.

“Chlo, what is it?” Beca’s worried now. She’s never seen Chloe like this, and it’s killing her. Her stomach churns as she tighests her hold on the redhead’s fingers, offering silent support.

“I think you’re going to hate me after this,” Chloe warns, pulling her fingers from Beca’s grasp. She goes back to pinching the skin between her thumb and finger, chewing on her lip anxiously.

“I could never hate you. What is it? You can tell me anything,” Beca assures, respecting Chloe’s need for space in this situation. She, of all people, understands the need for space. She hopes Chloe trusts her enough to confide in her about whatever it is that’s troubling her.

Chloe takes a deep breath, tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. She’s cried too much today already; she’s surprised she has any tears left. The thought of Beca rejecting her is ever present in her mind, but she has to get this out. No more living a lie.

“Beca, I’m… I’m in love with you,” she confesses, the words soft and barely audible.

Beca has to strain to hear them, and she wonders if Chloe actually said what she thinks she says. Apparently she did. She’s shocked, first of all. She never ever thought Chloe would return her feelings, but now the redhead’s telling her otherwise. Half of her doesn’t know whether this is some stupid prank, but the teriffied expression on Chloe’s face tells her that this is no joke.

“Y-You are?” She stammers, unable to form a proper sentence. It’s… overwhelming. She almost _died_ , and now she’s being told that the woman she loves is in loved with her. It’s _a lot_ , to say the least.

“Yes.” Chloe slips off the bed and begins pacing the length of her room, refusing to make eye contact with Beca. She walks quickly, like she’s panicking, and Beca doesn’t know what to do. She watches as Chloe’s chest rises and falls just a little too quickly, her hands shaking as she comes to a halt.

Chloe’s having a panic attack.

And Beca’s not about to sit in bed while it happens. Ignoring the doctor’s strict orders, she yanks back the sheet and climbs out of bed. Her side hurts like a fucking bitch, but it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is comforting Chloe.

“Chloe, breathe,” Beca says softly, approaching the panicking girl cautiously. Chloe’s crying openly now, her body trembling as she stares at the ground. “I’m going to hug you know, is that okay?”

Chloe’s response is a jerky nod, and Beca doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arms loosely around her best friend. She hums _Titanium_ (it’s their song) softly in the redhead’s ear, rocking her gently where they stand.

“Shh, you’re okay baby, you’re okay,” Beca coos, not thinking twice about the pet name that slips from her mouth. Chloe buries her head in Beca’s shoulder, her tears soaking through the thin surgical gown. Slowly but surely, the redhead begins to calm down, her wracking sobs becoming soft hiccups.

Beca holds her lovingly, ignoring the shooting pain in her side. She really should be in bed, but Chloe is more important than she is. She would die for Chloe in a heartbeat.

After a few more minutes wrapped in Beca’s safe embrace, Chloe pulls away, her head hanging in shame. “Sorry,” she whispers, pinching her skin again. Beca tugs her hands away, holding them in her own.

“You have nothing to apologise for, sweetie,” Beca soothes, squeezing Chloe’s hands reassuringly.

Chloe looks up, a grateful smile on her face. Beca’s always been able to calm her down from a panic attack. It’s one of the things she loves about her. Beca’s always there for her when she needs her the most.

“Beca! Why are you out of bed?” Chloe snaps suddenly, her eyes widening with worry. She grabs Beca and pulls her back towards the bed, ignoring the brunette's protests. Chloe only listens once Beca’s safely tucked back in bed, the sheet pulled up to her chest.

“I was more concerned with calming you down than my injury,” Beca says honestly, shrugging. Chloe’s jaw drops. Beca never ceases to surprise her. Despite the small woman’s badass demeanour, she’s incredibly selfless and caring towards people she loves cares about.

“Chloe, I—“ Beca starts, wondering how to bring the subject of Chloe’s love for her back up. She doesn’t want to make things awkward for the redhead, but she has to tell her that she loves her back.

Chloe let’s out a sigh, her face falling into a frown. She wraps her arms around her middle like she’s holding herself together. “If you don’t love me back, just tell me. I can take it. I just need to hear you say it,” she whispers, her voice broken and defeated.

“No no no, that’s not what I was going to say,” Beca hurries to say, waving her hands around to emphasise her point. Chloe looks back at her hopefully, her eyes shining with tears.

God, Chloe looks so beautiful. Her cheeks are red, her eyes are puffy, but she looks soft and innocent and gorgeous like this. The tear tracks on her cheeks glisten in the light, and her hair is a mess, but Beca loves her like this. All raw and messy and so fucking beautiful.

“Then what were you going to say?”

“I love you too,” Beca confesses, smiling softly as Chloe’s face lights up with a beaming smile. But then it falls. And she frowns again.

“Do you mean as friends? Because that’s not what I meant,” Chloe asks fearfully, hoping that Beca meant it the way she did. She really shouldn’t have hoped she would. Of course Beca doesn’t love her back. How stupid could she be? She’s just some annoying redhead and Beca’s practically a goddess. She deserves so much more.

Beca can see Chloe spiralling once more, and words bubble up in her throat. She can’t let Chloe think she meant it as friends. “No, Chlo, I’m _in love_ with you too,” she confesses sweetly.

Chloe’s eyes widen, her heart beating fast as she stares at Beca in surprise. “Oh my god!” she squeals, grabbing the small woman’s hands tightly. A huge smile spreads across her lips, her eyes sparkling with happy tears.

“Can I kiss you?” Beca asks, overwhelmed with happiness. A few tears slide down her cheeks as Chloe giggles and nods. She cups the redhead’s cheeks and brings their lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“Finally!” They hear from the door; Fat Amy. Their friends are standing by the door, all crowded outside peeking in through the tiny crack. Chloe beckons them forward, and they all pile in like eager puppies.

“We’re so glad you’re okay Becs,” Stacie says thankfully, grabbing the brunette’s hand. They all perch on the bed, taking their turns to hug the injured woman.

“Thanks guys,” Beca says, smiling round at her friends. Even Aubrey gives her a small smile, Chloe’s still gripping her hand and beaming at her. Never before has she felt so loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s it! hope you enjoyed this short three-shot! come hmu on @annaakendriick (tumblr & twitter) for more :)


	44. youtube (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #44:  
> “my best friend has a popular youtube channel and drags me into their videos and people comment on how we seem like a couple isn’t that awkward” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven’t updated this in a whole week and i hate that but i’ve been so busy going back and forth to the hospital, catching up on work and dealing with some personal stuff. but i managed to find time today to finish this, so here it is.
> 
> also sorry for any mistakes; i was kind of in a hurry to post it!

 “Chloe, stop!” Beca whines, digging her heels into the ground as Chloe tries to drag her towards her room. “I am _not_ appearing in your YouTube video!”

It’s probably about the tenth time Chloe has asked her to shoot a video with her, and the tenth time she’s said no. She constantly looks like a mess, and is certainly not photogenic. Chloe’s viewers would probably stop watching if she appeared on their screens.

Not to mention that fact she’s an extremely awkward person, and is only best friends with Chloe because the girl didn’t give up for six years.

“Becs, you can’t say no! I promised my fans I would do the “best friend tag” and you’re my best friend,” Chloe protests, yanking at Beca’s arm. The brunette stumbles forwards, tripping over her own feet. Chloe catches her and pushes her back upright, a fond smile on her face.

“Ugh! Can’t you get Aubrey to do it?” Beca’s determined not to let Chloe convince her this is a good idea. Every other time something like this has happened, it’s ended up going horribly wrong.

“You think Aubrey would agree to this?”

“I don’t understand how me saying no and Aubrey saying no are different!” Beca hisses, scrunching her nose up. She folds her arms across her chest stubbornly, refusing to move another inch.

“Because my persuasion tactics don’t work on her,” Chloe explains, placing her hands on Beca’s shoulders. She juts her bottom lip out and widens her eyes, letting them fill with tears.

Beca’s stomach drops. No no no, not this. She can’t say no to Chloe when she does that, and the redhead fucking knows it.

 _Goddammit_.

“Ugh I hate you,” Beca grumbles, tearing her eyes away from Chloe’s adorable puppy-like face.

“No you don’t,” the redhead sings, pulling Beca into her room. Beca can’t believe she’s being forced to do this. She never even verbally agreed.

Who is she kidding? She knows she would have said yes to Chloe eventually. She can’t say no to that girl even if she tried. All because of her stupid fucking crush. _Ugh_.

“How long will this take?” Beca asks, sitting down in front of Chloe’s camera. The redhead has a corner of her room specifically for shooting her videos; it’s decorated with fairy lights and a pretty bohemian tapestry hanging in the background.

“Depends how many mistakes we make,” Chloe says thoughtfully, taking a seat next to Beca. She bought soft floor cushions just for this video, and although she won’t admit it, she’s _so excited_ to finally get Beca in front of her camera.

She talks about the tiny brunette to her fans all the time, telling them funny stories about things she’s done. In fact, Beca is all over her social media. Her Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram and Tumblr all contain photos and messages about the girl.

Her fans have somehow worked out that she has a massive crush on Beca, and call them “Bechloe”. Chloe loves it, but she knows Beca probably wouldn’t. She hates the limelight, and doesn’t even know she’s on Chloe’s social media. Beca does follow her, but she rarely uses her phone, so she doesn’t see the constant tweets and posts about things they’ve done.

Chloe promised them all she’d get Beca in a YouTube video; they’ve been begging her for months, possibly even years. And finally, since the “best friend tag” is trending, she has the perfect excuse.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Beca mumbles, twirling her hair round her finger as she waits for Chloe to get settled and turn her camera on.

The redhead arranges her hair and smoothes down her floral blouse, painting on a smile for the camera. “Hey guys! So, today is a big day! Beca agreed to shoot a video with me!”

“Oi! I did _not_ agree to this. You _forced_ me. Stop lying to your subscribers,” Beca protests, slapping Chloe playfully on the arm.

“Alright, alright, I did force you,” Chloe agrees, chucking to herself. Beca is so adorable when she’s whiny and stubborn, and it just makes her fall more and more in love.

“Can we hurry up?” Beca asks impatiently as she taps her fingers in a rhythm on her thigh. Chloe just smiles and pulls out her phone, loading up her “best friend tag” questions. She’d asked her followers to tweet her questions they wanted answered.

“Right, first question,” Chloe begins, smiling to herself. This is definitely a question Beca will have _a lot_ to say about. “How did we meet?”

“Well,” Beca starts, words bubbling up in her throat. The story of how she and Chloe met is rather strange, and makes is an interesting one to tell. “I was singing in the shower, as you do, and this cheeky bug here walked in on me! She wanted me to audition for her stupid singing group.”

“Hey! The Bellas are not stupid!” Chloe interjects, poking Beca’s arm. Beca deliberately ignores her and continues.

“I was so embarrassed at the time, but I did actually go to the audition, and now The Bellas are my family,” she finishes, blushing lightly. God, she sounds so cheesy. Damn Chloe for turning her soft.

“Aw Becs, I had no idea you felt that way,” Chloe teases, reaching out to squish Beca’s cheeks together. The brunette seats her hands away, her expression dropping into a dark scowl.

“Just move on already,” Beca grumbles, rubbing her eyes.

“Okay, next. What were our first impressions of each other?” Chloe knows this is a good one, because Beca’s first impressions of everyone are bad. Of course, her first impression of Beca was that she was stunningly beautiful with a hidden personality behind high walls, but she isn’t going to say that.

“An annoyingly cheerful invasive bitch,” Beca says freely, without hesitation. They know each other well enough now to not get offended at being called a “bitch” or a “dick”, so Chloe just laughs and pulls Beca towards her. She presses a wet kiss to the brunette’s cheek, earning a sharp squeal and a slap to the face.

“The next one is—“

“Hold up, you haven’t answered the question!” Beca points out, grabbing Chloe’s phone. “The question clearly asks about our first impressions of _each other_ , not just my impression of you.”

Chloe blushes; she’d been hoping Beca wouldn’t realise, and would just move onto the next question obliviously. Obviously not. This question is hard for Chloe, because she doesn’t want to say what she truly thought. But then again, she doesn’t want to lie, because her fans know exactly what she thought of Beca when she first saw her. They’d all see right through her.

“Well, I just thought… I thought you were a tiny girl with walls as high as the Alps. I thought you were stubborn and defensive and I knew immediately I wanted to try and befriend you. I wanted to try and break down your walls, and show you that not everyone is going to leave you when you go through something tough,” Chloe says honestly, her words careful. She smiles as she speaks, her eyes glued to Beca.

She may or may not have planned to say exactly what she just said, but she said it, and she doesn’t regret it. Her fans may tweet crazily about it once this video is up, using all kinds of hashtags about how in love she is, but she needed Beca to hear just how much she cares, and how she was willing to work at their friendship without giving up.

Beca’s silent for a while; she’s speechless. She just stares at Chloe, her mouth opening and closing. She had no idea the redhead felt that way. “Chloe… I…”

“Shh Becs,” Chloe says softly, blinking slowly. “What song reminds you of our friendship?” The redhead knows exactly what Beca’s going to say, because it’s _their song_. She’d say exactly the same thing.

“ _Titanium_ , of course. It’s the song I was singing when you burst into my shower,” Beca answers, smiling fondly.

“Of course.” Chloe rolls her eyes, acting as though she had no idea Beca would say that song. She knows this will be a cute moment for her fans, and she’s more than happy to feed into their obsession with her and Beca.

Perhaps if she gets Beca to read all their tweets and comments, the brunette will realise what she’s missing. Beca probably doesn’t even have feelings for her. But it’s worth a try; she has nothing to lose.

They trade questions back and forth for a further fifteen minutes, giggling and laughing together. As Chloe switches off the camera, Beca smiles to herself. Despite her earlier thoughts, she’d actually really enjoyed filming Chloe’s video with her. Not that she’ll ever admit that, of course.

“My fans will love this,” Chloe comments as she switches off her ring lights. Her back is to Beca, so her secretive smile isn’t seen, but her tone of voice is rather suggestive in itself.

“What do you mean?” Beca asks, blinking slowly. She’s never even watched Chloe’s YouTube videos. She’s never felt guilty about it before, but she does now. She be supporting her and encouraging her as she grows and blossoms into a mini celebrity.

“Nothing,” Chloe replies, feigning innocence. “I’m going to edit it, talk later!” The redhead skips over to her desk, pulling out various leads to upload the video from her camera to her iMac. Beca watches for a few minutes, admiring the way the sun shines in through the window onto Chloe’s fiery hair. A halo appears around the older woman’s head, illuminating the wispy hairs.

Beca sighs in content. Wow, her best friend is gorgeous. She silently leaves the room, already pulling out her phone to open YouTube. She’s going to watch one of Chloe’s videos.

* * *

Five videos later, Beca’s shocked. Chloe talks so much about her; she can’t believe she’s never even realised. Guilt stirs in her stomach as it becomes clear she’s neglected part of her duty as Chloe’s best friend. She hasn’t supported her, or taken even a remote interest in this hobby of hers.

Now she realises she should.

Beca’s just about to click off Chloe’s “what I did in the holidays” video when something catches her eye. Huh, a comments section.

And because she’s a curious person, she clicks on the drop down that opens it up. She wants to check no one is being mean to her best friend, because if they are, they have her to go through first. She’ll hunt them all down and kick their asses.

What she finds causes her to sink down on her bed, pressing a hand to her cheek. There are thousands of comments. About her. About Chloe. About her and Chloe. As a _couple_.

_**kstar100:** omg! beca sounds like such a babe! it’s clear how much you love her  <3_

_**creamcupcake:** This kind of friendship warms my heart. It’s such a gift that you’ve fallen in love with such an amazing woman. I hope we get to see her in a video sometime!_

_**thegrassisgreener:** HOLY SHIT THIS SO CUTE THE PHOTO OF YOU WITH ICE CREAMS OMGGGG!!! AND THE ONE WHERE SHE’S KISSING YOUR CHEEK MY WHOLE HEART IS WARM AND FLUFFY IM IN LOVE <3_

_**bechloeisreal:** #bechloe4ever you’re sO IN LOVE IT’S THE CUTEST THING_

_**bechloeareinlove:** I hope you manage to tell her your feelings! It’s clear from the way she looks at you that she’s in love with you too. Tell her. She won’t reject you. Sending luck and hugs! xox_

Beca’s in shock. Chloe’s fans _know_. They know that she’s in love with Chloe. From goddamn photos. God, how transparent is she? If they know — and they’ve never even met her — then everyone around her must know. The Bellas must know. Chloe must know.

Wait, maybe not.

But from what Beca’s reading, it’s clear to her that Chloe’s in love with her. And now she thinks back to those videos, she realises that all those comments Chloe makes mean something a little more than friendship.

Throwing down her phone, Beca races into Chloe’s room, determined to do something about her feelings. Now she knows how the older woman feels, it’s time to act.

Chloe’s sat at her desk, editing the video. Beca approaches quietly and taps the redhead’s shoulder. She’s suddenly a little nervous, but she shrugs it off and tells herself that she has to take a chance.

She isn’t going to back down from this.

Chloe turns round in her chair, snilimg when she sees Beca standing there. “Hey Becs, you okay?” She asks kindly, wrapping her fingers round one of the brunette’s wrists.

“Chloe, I watched some of your videos,” Beca begins, watching her best friend’s expression carefully. Chloe’s eyes light up with surprise, but Beca isn’t oblivious to the flash of fear that‘s gone in the blink of an eye. “And I read some of the comments…”

“You—You did?” Chloe stutters, her cheeks heating up. She knows exactly what those comments say; she’s read them over and over enough times to be extremely familiar with the content.

“I never realised you felt the same way,” Beca breathes, falling down into Chloe’s lap. She straddles the redhead’s thighs, draping her arms loosely round her neck. Beca tilts her head upwards slightly, staring into Chloe’s bright cerulean eyes.

“W-What? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Chloe’s jaw drops in shock. She’s waited years for this moment to come, and she never would have guessed Beca would be the one to bring it up. But life is full of surprises.

Beca doesn’t respond; instead, she presses a soft, chaste kissing to Chloe’s glossy pink lips. “I love you,” she whispers, their breath mingling together. Chloe smells of sunshine and vanilla and that fresh fruit spray she insists on wearing every day.

“I love you too,” Chloe says, bringing her lips down onto Beca’s, wrapping her arms tightly around the brunette’s waist as she does so.


	45. youtube (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #45:  
> can i request a part two to this prompt where the fans don’t know they are dating and they keep it a secret for a couple of months before they post the girlfriend tag and everyone freaks and stuff, and maybe some bella’s are present?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for supermcgrath  
> wow this turned out kinda smutty oops? i don’t really write smut because i think i’m shit at it so they don’t actually ‘do the deed’ but yeah... it’s kinda smutty i guess

“I think it’s time we do the “girlfriend tag”. My fans deserve to know about us.” Chloe comes up behind Beca, slinging her arms around her shoulders. The brunette is sat at her desk, working on a mix. Beca saves her work and slides her headphones off her ears, leaning her head back against Chloe’s chest.

“You think?” Beca’s not opposed to it; they’ve been together for a while, and no one knows yet. Not even The Bellas. She has no idea how the hell they’ve managed to keep it a secret; they’re all over each other in private. Beca’s dragged Chloe off to the bathroom during their breaks for a quick, desperate make out session too many times to count.

“We’ve been together for two months now, and I haven’t told them. They still think I’m hopelessly in love with you, and they keep telling me to just confess my feelings. I think they’ve earned the right to know,” Chloe explains, dragging her hands gently through Beca’s hair. Her girlfriend sighs softly, letting her eyes flutter closed as she relishes in the feeling.

Of course, if Beca doesn’t want their relationship revealed online, she’s okay with that. Not everyone is comfortable with the idea, so she would understand if Beca asked it to be kept offline.

“I think you’re right,” the brunette agrees, twisting her head to look up at Chloe. “We should shoot a video.”

* * *

Beca takes a seat once more on the comfortable peach floor cushions in the corner of Chloe’s room, arranging her tartan skirt in her lap. Chloe switches on her fairy lights and sits down next to her girlfriend, turning on the camera as she does so.

They agreed on a livestream, as Chloe didn’t want to edit any of the video. Beca’s too adorable to cut any bits out. And this way, her fans will be able to see what they’re actually like together, instead of just a video showing the best parts.

She can’t believe Beca actually agreed to this. They haven’t shown any affection in public yet anyway, but Chloe knows Beca prefers to keep her life private and not flaunt it around. Perhaps it’ll be different with her.

“Have you got the questions?” Beca asks, looking across at Chloe expectantly. She’s smiling softly; the redhead is simply gorgeous. She’s so lucky.

“Yep, they’re on my phone.”

“Gimme.” Beca reaches out and snatches Chloe’s phone from her hand. She presses her thumb on the home button (yes, she has her fingerprint on there) and opens the list of questions.

“So you’re asking the questions this time then?” Chloe teases, poking Beca’s side. The brunette shrieks and curls in on herself, batting her girlfriend’s hands away desperately.

“Yep; you asked them last time,” Beca says, holding Chloe’s phone close to her chest so it can’t be stolen back.

“Fine.” Chloe grins at Beca, then looks back at the camera connected to her laptop, ready to start. Her knows her fans will already be freaking out in the comments. She’ll have a look later.

“Right…” Beca scans the list of questions, narrowing her eyes as she looks for one she wants to ask. “When was our first date?”

“The third of June,” Chloe shoots back without hesitation. “You took me to my favourite Italian restaurant, then we went for a walk in the park and lay under the stars. You told me about your passion for the stars, and you told me about all the constellations. You thought you were being annoying, but I loved it.” The redhead looks over to Beca, staring at her with soft, hooded eyes. It’s clear from her expression that she’s in love; it’s like Beca’s her whole world.

“You remember,” Beca breathes, almost surprised. She turns to look at Chloe too, their eyes meeting. A smile breaks out on her face. Chloe joins their hands, rubbing her thumb gently on Beca’s skin.

They’re silent for a few minutes, lost in each other’s eyes. The camera’s still recording, capturing their tender moment of love for her fans to see.

Beca snaps out of it first, winking cheekily at Chloe before she pulls her hand away. “Next question,” she says, clearing her throat. Chloe looks a little disappointed; Beca looks so good. She just wants to jump on her. But no, she needs to restrain herself. “When was our first kiss?”

“Easy. It was the day we shot the “best friend tag” video. You came into my room after watching a few of my videos and reading some comments. You straddled my lap and kissed me,” Chloe recalls, smiling fondly.

Beca’s breath catches in her throat. She’s desperate to kiss Chloe. She _needs_ to. Without a second thought, she yanks off her jumper and throws it at the camera, covering the lense.

She turns to Chloe, grabbing her by the sleeves of her shirt. She pulls the redhead into her, wrapping her arms around her neck as their lips meet.

Chloe lets out an instinctive moan, shifting so she’s straddling Beca’s lap. The brunette kisses her passionately, her tongue pushing its way forcefully into her mouth. Chloe loves the dominant side of Beca; it turns her on so much.

Chloe’s head falls back as Beca trails her lips along her jawline, kissing and nipping vigorously at the skin. As she sucks on her pulse point, Chloe hisses in pain and pleasure. Beca soothes the skin, knowing she’ll have left a sizeable hickey in its place.

She knows they’re not high school teenagers, but they’re young and horny and she doesn’t care. She wants everyone to know Chloe’s hers.

“Fuck, Becs,” Chloe moans, rolling her hips into Beca’s stomach. She’s caught up in the moment until she suddenly realises the video is still streaming, and everyone can hear them.

Chloe quickly leans back, fingers fumbling blindly to find the off button. When she locates it, she presses it, satisfied when the camera beeps.

Now they can continue. Her fans can wait.

Beca grabs her by the back of the neck and pulls her back in, her other hand fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. Chloe aids her in ridding herself of the garment, snapping off her bra as she does so.

“Bed,” Beca breathes, reluctantly rising from their position on the floor. Chloe stays attached to her, their lips fused together as she stumble backwards.

Instead of landing on Chloe’s bed, they hit the wall. Beca presses herself into her girlfriend, slotting a leg between the redhead’s.

“Please Becs,” Chloe whines breathlessly as Beca kisses her way down her chest.

Beca’s about to take Chloe’s nipple into her mouth when their door is flung open. The Bellas.

Aubrey screams and covers her eyes, causing both Beca and Chloe to scream in reaction. They press their bodies together, hiding Chloe’s nudity.

“Girls!” Aubrey yells, backing out of the room. Beca pulls away from Chloe sheepishly, reaching down to grab Chloe’s shirt off the floor.

Chloe silently puts it on, letting Beca do up the buttons for her. She isn’t wearing a bra, but she doesn’t plan to be in this shirt for long. She’s so wet, and she knows Beca is too.

“We’ll continue later,” Beca whispers as she presses on last kiss to her lips. Then, hands joined, they leave Chloe’s room and go to the living room.

The Bellas are all sat there expectantly, staring at them in shock. Fat Amy and Cynthia-Rose have smug smiles plastered across their faces, clearly glad that the two women are finally together after so long.

Ashley and Jessica are squished on an armchair together, regarding the flushed woman with soft smiles on their faces. Aubrey is still staring in shock, clearly scarred by what she saw.

“Why are you guys here? You really interrupted something,” Beca grumbles, clinging onto Chloe’s hand. She _really_ wants to go back to Chloe’s room and finish what they started.

“We were watching your livestream when suddenly the screen went black and the sound of moaning filled the room! Then it cut out completely! We had to come and find out what was going on,” Stacie explains, shrugging innocently. (Everyone knows she’s only faking it. Stacie has more sexual experience than all of them combined.)

“Congrats,” Cynthia-Rose says, smirking. “You two are so hot together.”

Beca grins, looking up at Chloe. The two exchange a lustful look, both their eyes significantly darker than when they started the livestream.

“We should go,” Fat Amy says, already making her way towards the door. The rest of The Bellas nod in agreement and shuffle towards the door, not wanting to be there when the two women pounced on each other again.

“I expect all the details later,” Aubrey says firmly as she waltzes past, shooting them a half disapproving look. Chloe knows she’s secretly happy for them; she just doesn’t want to show it.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Beca turns and marches back to Chloe’s room, dragging her girlfriend behind her.

She pushes Chloe onto the bed, ripping off her shirt once more. Her mouth descends on Chloe’s nipple, causing the redhead to arch her back up off the bed in pleasure.

“Fuck me,” Chloe growls, moving Beca’s hand down to her skirt. Beca releases her nipple with a pop, looking up at Chloe with dilating pupils.

“Gladly.”


	46. disneyland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #46:  
> “we both get lost at disneyland and somehow stumble across each other and decide to be lost together” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i’ve been busy so i haven’t managed to upload as much as i’d like. but anyway, here’s this.

“Shit,” Beca mumbles, coming to a stop as she stares around her. She’s got no clue where she is; she was with her best friend, but Fat Amy had run off as soon as she’d seen the candyfloss stall manned by a supposedly cute man, leaving Beca all alone. The brunette hasn’t been able to located Amy since, which is fucking _brilliant_.

All she can see are men and women (probably her age and older) dressed up as goddamn Disney characters. Beca _hates_ Disney. It’s childish and animated and frankly a waste of time. It’s the kind of thing you should watch as a child and _only_ as a child. (Unless you’re a parent. Then, of course, you’re forced to watch Disney movies around the clock.)

Beca’s not entirely sure why she’s actually here. Fat Amy had literally carried her out of the door, blatantly ignoring her kicking and screaming to be put down. So, like a toddler, Amy had strapped her in and driven her to Disneyland, all while she stared out of the window stubbornly, refusing to utter a word. Suffice to say she has _not_ had a good day so far, and it’s only midday. The park shuts at _seven fucking o'clock._ Beca has no doubt Amy will want to stay till then.

Goddammit.

It’s so crowded, people milling around everywhere, queueing up to meet the fake princesses. Beca thinks it’s kind of sad. Why would you want an autograph from someone dressed up? It’s literally pointless.

She could be mixing. She could be writing that essay that’s due in two days. She’d rather be doing just about anything. Standing alone in the middle of Disneyland on a Saturday morning really isn’t on her bucket list.

Rubbing a hand roughly over her face, Beca slouches and moves over to one of the benches against the stone wall. She rests her back against it, relishing in the way the cool surface presses against her hot back.

Beca was left with nothing. Amy’s carrying the bags, insisting that she’d take them since she’d dragged her out. Now Beca’s regretting now taking one. She’s so thirsty. She _needs_ water.

No bag means she also has no money, so she can’t even go and buy a bottle. Well, everything is a disaster. Beca turns round and peers over the edge of the wall. They’re on a raised level, so the drop is rather significant.

She hates heights.

 _Aaaand breathe_ , Beca mumbles under her breath, pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose. She looks up when someone sits next to her, clutching a rucksack and a bottle of water.

Water.

Is she brave enough to ask for some? Nope, probably not. Beca thinks she can wait a little longer, but as she presses her lips together she realises just how dry her mouth is. She hasn’t had anything to drink since… yesterday sometime.

Here goes nothing.

“Um, excuse me?” Beca starts, reaching out to touch the redhead’s shoulder. The gentle touch catches the woman’s attention, and she looks round, her eyes bright and glistening. She may or may not be crying.

Beca doesn’t want to commit to that assumption because she knows jackshit about comforting people, and _really_ can’t deal with a crying stranger right now. “Uh, do you have any spare water? My friend abandoned me and I literally have nothing on me. I can, uh, buy you a new bottle when I find her… If I find her.” Beca’s rambling a bit, but she’s nervous, okay? Her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and she glances away from the woman’s piercing eyes.

“Of course,” she says, reaching round into her bag to pull out fresh bottle of water. “I’m Chloe, by the way.” Her voice is a little wet, probably from crying, and Beca’s surprised to find herself feeling somewhat sympathetic.

“Thank you so much,” Beca says, unscrewing the cap and taking a large gulp. She proceeds to chug half the bottle, only stopping when she feels sick. Chloe’s watching her, amused. “What? I was thirsty,” she defends, feigning offence.

“I’m not judging,” Chloe shoots back, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Beca can’t fight the smile that breaks out on her face, and she laughs softly. Perhaps being left by Fat Amy isn’t such a disaster after all.

“Um, are you okay? You kinda looked like you were crying a minute ago…” Beca doesn’t want to push, because she knows some people are private, like her. But she couldn’t ignore the gorgeous redhead’s glistening blue eyes.

“Yes, I’m fine… I’m just lost. My friend went off somewhere and I’m not a huge fan of crowds,” Chloe explains, twisting her ring round on her finger. She bites her lip softly, twisting her head to smile weakly at Beca.

“I’m lost too, actually,” Beca says, sliding closer to Chloe on the bench. She takes another gulp of water, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Chloe’s forearm.

“You are? We can be lost together!” Chloe’s face perks up at the news, and she smiles widely. Beca’s glad that the redhead is smiling, because Chloe’s smile is _gorgeous_.

“I… Sure,” Beca agrees, grinning. Perhaps now she’ll enjoy herself. Chloe seems like the kind of girl to like Disney though, which isn’t ideal. “You like Disney though, right?”

“Oh my god! Of course! Who doesn’t like it?” Chloe seems highly offended at the very notion of disliking it, and Beca winces. She hopes Chloe isn’t one of those girls to hate other people because they don’t like what she likes.

“Uh, me?”

“What?” Chloe shoots back immediately, sure she must have heard Beca wrong. Surely the brunette didn’t just say…

“I don’t like Disney,” Beca confesses, glancing away as Chloe’s jaw drops. She thinks she’s about to be shouted at, but the redhead just closes her mouth quietly and blinks slowly.

“That’s okay,” she says, shrugging. “Not everyone does.” Beca couldn’t be more pleased. Finally someone who isn’t judging her for not liking some silly animation. “So, wanna go grab some food?”

“I have no money,” Beca says sheepishly, poking herself lightly on the palm of her hand, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll pay. It can be my treat,” Chloe says easily, fixing the brunette with a dazzling smile.

Beca wants to decline, because she hates other people buying her things, but Chloe’s smile is too irresistible. “Okay.”

“Awesome! Let’s go!” And with that, Chloe stands up and grabs Beca’s hand, dragging her off in the direction of the food stalls.


	47. ten red hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #47:  
> “i always see you in the library and i think you’re really cute so i leave you little post it notes on your work whenever you go and get a book just to see you blush” au (valentine’s edition)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> managed to write this quickly for valentine’s day. i hate v-day, but chloe beale doesn’t, so i had to write something!

As soon as Chloe receives the agreed wink of confirmation from Stacie, she starts moving. She puts down her books and the scanner, and instead picks up the red, heart-shaped pieces of paper on the side.

The wink was to let her know that Beca had left her chair, gone to look for a book. Chloe has every intention of leaving a few cute notes where her stuff is for her to find. The redhead has finally worked up the courage to ask the adorable girl out, especially on Valentine’s Day.

Chloe was extremely surprised when she saw Beca turn up at the library at 9AM. Their classes were cancelled for the day, leaving most people to go out with their partners or even with friends. Not many people chose to study.

But it also gave Chloe the perfect opportunity. Being the Student Librarian means she has eyes on everyone at all times, and she put Stacie in place to let her know when Beca had left her seat.

She just hopes that Beca doesn’t freak out.

Chloe’s been watching her for ten months now, ever since the start of the year. The brunette comes in maybe twice a week, sometimes more, pulls out her homework and works for a solid two hours. Sometimes she brings her laptop, sometimes she doesn’t.

Beca’s simply _gorgeous_ even despite her thick eyeliner and the piercings all up her ears. Chloe just thinks it’s attractive in a mysterious kind of way. It’s intriguing, and she loves it.

Chloe doesn’t think Beca will be well-receiving of the notes; the girl doesn’t really seem like a romantic person. But she has nothing to lose. The notes are anonymous anyway, so if it doesn’t go to plan, she doesn’t have to reveal her identity.

She walks forward swiftly, the ten red cards clutched between her thumb and fingers. She peers round the shelves to see Beca standing with her back to her.

Chloe knows she doesn’t have much time, so she sets to work arranging the notes, hiding them under various pieces of work. She leaves one on top, just so Beca knows they’re there.

Then, as soon as she’d come, she’s gone. She arrives back at the Student Desk within seconds, making sure to face the direction Beca’s in.

Chloe watches as the small brunette returns to her seat, library book in hand. Beca’s eyebrows rise as she picks up the first note, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she reads it.

Chloe has to fight the urge to squeal because Beca’s blush is _adorable_. Absolutely adorable. It’s probably (definitely) the cutest thing she’s ever seen, and she loves puppies.

She knows exactly what that note says:

_my mom told me life was a deck of cards, so you must be the queen of hearts_

Chloe knows it’s awfully cheesy, but it seems to be working because Beca’s cheeks are still red. The brunette is now working again, reading through her book when she finds another note.

_do you have a bandaid? ‘cos i just scraped my knee falling for you._

Beca blushes heavily again, her hands trembling slightly as she places the note to the side and tries to focus on her work. She picks up her pen and stares at the poem looking innocently back at her, the white page filled with scribbles.

She loves literature, but she can’t focus on it for the life of her right now. Those two cute messages are at the forefront of her mind.

She wonders who it could be. Of course, there’s one person she desperately wants it to be, but there’s no chance it’s them.  
Chloe Beale is way out of her league.

Chloe’s cute and friendly and gorgeous and she’s just quiet and moody. She has no friends; she just spends her spare time studying or mixing. Chloe wouldn’t want to date her. No way.

Beca drops her hands into her palms as she sighs heavily. But as she does so, she sees another hint of read poking out from under her poem.

She reaches under and grabs it, already blushing. Her stomach flips as she reads it, and she has to press a hand to her cheek in an attempt to cool it down.

_do you know what i did last night? i looked up at the stars, and matched each one with a reason why i love you_

Beca really wants to know who it is.

Part of her hopes that it’s Chloe, because that would be a dream come true, but she knows it’s not. She needs to get over that girl, no matter how amazing it is to love her. It’s only going to hurt her in the long run.

“There are ten of them,” a voice says from across the table. Beca looks up to see Stacie, a girl from her Philosophy class, standing in front of her.

“What?”

“Ten notes,” the taller brunette repeats, nodding her head towards the red paper heart still clutched between Beca’s fingers.

“Oh… how do you know?” Beca’s sure Stacie played a part in orchestrating this, and she obviously knows who they’re from. Her mind whirs as she tries to think of who Stacie’s friends with.

Stacie’s friends with Chloe.

 _Get a grip, Mitchell. Chloe isn’t going to like you no matter what you tell yourself._ Beca smiles weakly at Stacie and looks back at the handwritten note, admiring the loopy cursive lettering.

“Let’s just say… the person behind them really likes you.” Stacie shoots the small brunette a wink, then promptly turns on her heel and walks off. Beca drops her head into her hands as she thinks; she can’t think of a single person that would like her.

She’s… different. Beca knows that no one likes her. It’s probably all some well-planned joke to make her feel bad. Nevertheless, she’s a curious person, so she begins to look for the other even notes.

A few minutes later, she’s only found six. She can’t for the life of her find the seventh. That’s only nine hearts in her hand, not ten. Rolling her eyes, Beca tosses them to the side. Of course it’s all a big joke. There probably isn’t even a tenth note. Great.

And now she can’t concentrate on her work.

Beca’s desperately trying to figure out what else to write on poem when she hears someone clearing their throat in front of her. She looks up to see none other than Chloe Beale, smiling widely at her.

“Um, can I help you?” She mumbles, fiddling with her pen. It falls from her fingers onto the floor and she blushes, extremely embarrassed.

Chloe doesn’t speak, but instead pulls something out from behind her back. It’s a large red heart with the words “will you be my valentine?” written in the middle. In that same loopy writing.

Chloe’s handwriting.

Beca opens her mouth to speak, but then she falters. What if it really is a big joke? What if she says yes and Chloe laughs in her face, taunting her for believing she’d ever like a stupid idiot like her.

“It’s not a joke,” Chloe says softly, as though she’s read Beca’s mind. Beca smiles at her gratefully, because she can tell the redhead isn’t lying.

Perhaps this is all a dream.

She pinches her arm just to check, but nothing happens. Maybe it’s real. Chloe’s starting to look worried, and Beca realises she’s been silent for a while now. Time to speak.

“A-Are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” Chloe says, surprised Beca even had to ask. She’s never been more serious about anything in her whole entire life.

“I… Of course I’ll be your valentine. But why me? You could have _anyone_ ,” Beca asks, genuinely confused. Chloe places the red sign on the table and talks over to where the brunette is sat.

“Because you’re beautiful.” And before Beca has a chance to reply, she feels soft lips pressing against hers, hands coming up to cup her cheeks.

As Beca kisses Chloe, wrapping her arms around her neck, she wonders what kind of dream she’s living in. It’s certainly one she doesn’t want to wake up from.


	48. braces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #48:  
> “i just got braces and now i’m avoiding you because i don’t think you’ll want to kiss me anymore” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was bored in the car so i wrote this on my phone. sorry for any mistakes.

Beca hates the dentist.

It’s the only thought that races through her mind as she stares at the appointment card in her hand. 2:00PM. She’d forgotten about it — funnily enough — until this morning when she’d found the card by chance.

She has a lunch planned with Chloe, and now she has to cancel. It would have been their fifth date. Beca hates cancelling things. What if Chloe hates her?

She’s already wary of their relationship, half expecting Chloe to break up with her any minute, and this really isn’t helping. With shaking hands, she pulls out her phone and opens her messages.

Drawing her lip hurriedly between her teeth, chewing anxiously, she begins a text to Chloe, apologising profusely.

**Chlo, I’m really sorry. I have to cancel our lunch date; something came up. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me :(**

Beca shoves her phone back in her pocket and grabs her car keys. She now has half an hour to get to the appointment. She fumbles with the keys as she leaves the house, the quiet jingling doing little to calm her nerves.

The dentist really doesn’t hold great memories for Beca, and she’s scared shitless of going. And she would ask Chloe, but there’s no way the redhead would come if she knew why she was going.

Braces.

One word, five letters, a thousand negative connotations. Beca never thought she’d need them; her teeth had been straight as a child. But now, at twenty years old, she suddenly needs them.

Chloe will probably break up with her as soon as she sees them. They’re ugly and extremely unflattering. Beca thinks she’ll end up a mute. She certainly won’t be opening her mouth anytime soon after she has them.

Clenching her jaw, Beca slides into her car and sticks the keys in the ignition. And then, her heart pounding, she drives off.

* * *

Beca’s leg bounces impatiently as she waits, the movement sharp and jerky. She’s checked her phone every minute since she’s arrived; still no message from Chloe. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she stares down at the blank screen.

Chloe probably hates her so much she won’t even reply.

“Beca Mitchell?” A voice calls, and Beca’s head snaps up. Eyes wide, she rises slowly from her seat. “Your dentist is ready for you,” the receptionist says, smiling kindly.  
Beca swallows the lump in her throat, offering a weak smile as she walks down the hall. She doesn’t need directions. She’s been coming here for as long as she can remember.

It never gets better.

She comes to a stop outside the door, pausing to gather herself before she goes in. She’s not quite ready to go in yet. Instead, Beca stares blankly at the door handle, half willing it to just open on its own.

But then the door opens, revealing Beca’s dentist, Jessica Pearson. The brunette has been treating Beca since she was a small child, so she’s not surprised to see the young woman hovering outside the door.

“Hello Beca, would you like to come in?” Jessica asks, smiling warmly at her patient. Beca just shuffles into the room, her lips still firmly shut.

Although she hates the dentist, having Jessica is a small blessing. She sees the woman as a kind of aunt, almost. She makes the whole thing just a little better. Normally Beca would try and make conversation; she does actually care about Jessica and likes to know how she is. But this time, she can’t find it in her. She’s too scared to even look the tall brunette in the eye.

Beca silently takes a seat on the reclining seat, digging her nails into her palms to ground her. “Beca? Are you okay?” Jessica’s warm voice snaps her out of her anxious trance, forcing Beca to turn her head towards the her.

“Um, I’m just... scared,” the small brunette confesses, glancing down nervously again. She feels a comforting presence next to her, and she realises Jessica has sat down on the seat beside her.

“Why? I know you hate the dentist, but I’ve never seen you quite this distressed before.”

“I don’t want braces,” Beca whispers, terrified. Tears roll down her cheeks as she speaks, her breath catching in her throat. Embarrassed, she hastily wipes them away, but they just won’t stop.

“Oh Beca, sweetie,” Jessica soothes, embracing the younger woman from the side. Beca turns her head into the dentist’s shoulder, crying softly as the tall brunette rubs soothing circles on her back.

After a few minutes, Beca pulls away, her cheeks blotchy and her eyes puffy. “I have a girlfriend,” she begins, her voice so quiet it’s almost inaudible. “I don’t want her to find me unattractive. Braces will make me look ugly. She won’t want me anymore.” A few more tears fall from her eyes, but she brushes them away quickly.

“Beca, that’s a load of bullshit. Of course she won’t hate you. Braces won’t make you ugly, sweetie. You only have to wear them for six months. Some people have to wear them for three years, so you’re one of the lucky ones,” Jessica assures, her heart aching for the anxious woman next to her.

She’d always known Beca was an anxious person — she’s one of the only people to know about the brunette’s panic attacks — but the depth of her insecurity still makes her stomach twist.

Beca doesn’t know what to say. How can Jessica be so sure Chloe won’t hate her? The redhead hasn’t even replied to her message cancelling lunch. Fuck. What if she’s sat there, waiting?

The brunette shoots off the bed suddenly and yanks her phone from her pocket. She turns it on and sees a message from Chloe. She lets out a big breath of relief as she sees it, but the knot in her stomach doesn’t disappear.

Jessica watches worriedly at Beca opens the message and reads it, eyes darting frantically over the screen.

**What came up? Is it important? I was looking forward to seeing you :( no worries though, I’ll see you later. Love you xox**

“Jess, she hates me already. Look,” Beca says, shoving her phone towards her dentist. Jessica reads the message quickly, then looks back at Beca. Tears are already dripping down her cheeks again, and she wraps her arms around her torso.

Jessica stands and pulls the shorter woman into a tight hug. “Beca, she doesn’t hate you. She was just looking forward to seeing you. She really isn’t going to be annoyed about this,” she reassures, rubbing circles on Beca’s back.

“Can we just get this over with?” Beca pulls back, her voice small. Jessica just smiles and nods, adjusting the seat as Beca sits down.

“It’ll be very quick, don’t worry.” Jessica does her best to be quiet as she puts on her gloves and readies the braces. She doesn’t want to freak Beca out even more.

Beca just hopes she’s right.

* * *

 Half an hour later, it’s done.

Beca stares at her reflection in her car mirror, disgust written all over her face. She hates them, and she hates herself. God, she looks so ugly. Chloe definitely isn’t going to want to kiss her now. Hell, Chloe probably won’t even want to talk to her.

The brunette had left swiftly after her appointment, Jessica’s calm reassurances floating straight over her head. All she can hear was her heartbeat and voices telling her how ugly she is. She can practically hear Chloe laughing at her.

Beca drives home in silence; she doesn’t even put on one of her sad mixes. She just drives, lost in her self-deprecating thoughts. She runs her tongue over her teeth, scrunching her nose up as all she feels is rough metal.

When she arrives back, most of the Bellas are back. Beca knows that Fat Amy, Cynthia-Rose and Stacie are still in class, but everyone else should be home.

Clutching her bag tightly on her shoulder, Beca she walks towards the house, lips sealed firmly together. She unlocks the door quietly, because she wants to sneak up to her room unnoticed if she can.

She’s halfway up the stairs when she hears Chloe’s voice from below her. Her shoulders automatically slump, and she readies herself for an onslaught of happiness as she turns round.

“Becs, you’re back!” Chloe begins to walk up the stairs to meet her girlfriend, but Beca shakes her head insistently. “What’s wrong?”

Another shake of her head. Beca turns on her heel and runs up the rest of the stairs, ignoring Chloe’s worried calls. She hears footsteps following her, but she gets to her room first, throwing her bag down on her bed before she dives into the bathroom. She locks the door as Chloe reaches her doorway, her bright eyes wide with concern.

“Beca, please, what’s wrong?” Chloe presses her hands against the door, knowing trying to open it would be futile.

Beca slides down the door, dropping her head into her hands as she drags her legs up to her chest. Her shoulders shake slightly as she sobs, she noise stifled by biting down on her wrist.

“Baby, is it me?” Chloe asks from the other side, her voice slightly wobbly. She doesn’t want to start crying, but Beca hasn’t done this — locking herself in the bathroom — for a while.

“No,” Beca chokes out, curling into herself even more. She wants to rip them out. Why her? Of all the people to get braces, why did it have to be her?

“Please let me in,” Chloe begs, running her hands through her hair. She begins to pace back and forwards in front of the door, her mind whirring.

The redhead thinks back to earlier. Beca has sounded worried in her text cancelling their lunch, and she’d never replied to the other one. What if Beca’s ill? What if she’d been at the hospital?

Chloe looks round Beca’s room and spots her back, flung on the bed. Aha, maybe there’ll be something in there. Biting her lip, Chloe opens up the bag and looks through it, finally pulling out two sheets of paper.

One is an appointment card, and the other is a leaflet on looking after braces. Braces. Beca went and got braces. That’s why she won’t let Chloe see her.

Chloe drops the leaflet and walks back over to the bathroom door. “Beca, braces aren’t going to make me hate you,” she says softly, just loud enough for her girlfriend to hear.

Beca lifts her head up from where it’s nestled between her knees. How the hell does Chloe know? Oh... the leaflet. Wow, just her luck.

“You don’t have to lie, Chlo,” Beca replies, laughing humourlessly.

“Beca, I’m not lying. Please open the door, I want to see you.”

“No. As soon as you see them you’ll think I’m ugly. You won’t want to kiss me or sleep with me or be seen with me. I look like a fifth grade loser.” Beca stands up and moves in front of her bathroom mirrow. She forces a smile, just to remind herself how bad they look.

Yeah, Chloe definitely isn’t going to be seeing them anytime soon.

“How about you let me see them, and then I’ll decide for myself?” Chloe tries, getting impatient. She knows Beca’s an anxious person, but she just wants the brunette to open the door so she can show her how gorgeous she is.

Beca stays silent for a minute, seemingly weighing up Chloe’s offer. She doesn’t want to anger the her girlfriend, so she slides open the lock and cautiously opens the door. She readies herself for rejection as best she can, clenching her hands into fists to try and calm her nerves.

Chloe smiles as soon as she sees Beca, immediately pulling her into a hug. “I love you no matter what,” she whispers, pressing a loving kiss to the brunette’s cheek as she pulls away.

“You won’t when you see them,” Beca jokes, scoffing. Chloe just frowns and cups her girlfriend’s cheeks gently.

“Smile,” she coaxes, bopping the short woman on the nose. Beca can’t help but smile; Chloe is simply adorable. But then she realises the redhead has seen her braces, and she clamps her lips shut once more.

Face heating up, she turns away and stares straight at her wall, her heart beating rapidly. The silence is starting to worry her; perhaps her worst fears are coming true, perhaps Chloe’s left already, perhaps she’s so shocked from the sheer ugliness that she’s been rendered speechless.

But then Beca feels strong arms pulling her back round and her lips collide with soft pink ones. Chloe wraps her arms around Beca’s waist, bringing their bodies closer together. Beca instinctively winds her hands round Chloe’s neck, clutching at the back of her neck.

Chloe pulls away first, a soft smile on her face. Her eyes are sparkling, bright with love and happiness. “I love you so, so much,” she whispers huskily.

A shiver runs through Beca’s body, and she swallows thickly. Braces forgotten, she grabs Chloe by the collar of her shirt and slams their lips back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stole jessica pearson from suits and made her a dentist because i love her gorgeous self so much


	49. lecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #49:  
> “you sit behind me and poke me every time i fall asleep during 9am lectures thank you can i buy you a coffee?” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one’s kinda short sorry

_“Hey,” Beca whispers, a soft smile spreading across her face. She reaches out to brush a strand of fiery hair from Chloe’s face and tucks it behind the redhead’s ear._

_“Hey yourself,” Chloe replies, stepping closer to the small brunette. She stares at her girlfriend with kind eyes, love and adoration shining brightly in the cerulean orbs._

_“I have a lecture in two minutes.” Beca frowns reluctantly, wishing she could stand here and spend more time with the gorgeous redhead._

_Chloe just smiles, rubbing a thumb over Beca’s cheekbone. “It’s okay baby, we have all evening together too,” she assures, pressing a sweet kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead._

_“Oi, aren’t you going to give me a proper kiss?” Beca challenges, wrapping a hand round Chloe’s neck. She pulls the older girl towards her, their lips meeting. Chloe’s kiss is light and—_

“Beca,” Chloe hisses, jabbing Beca in the back with her pencil. The brunette stays slumped over her desk, pen still held loosely between her fingers. The redhead grumbles under her breath and pokes a little harder, wincing as Beca jerks at the touch.

Beca slowly sits up, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she looks round her. With a sigh, she realises she fell asleep in her Philosophy class, just ten minutes into the lecture.

She’s annoyed because that dream had been _so good_ , but it was just another reminder of what she can’t have. Beca looks over her shoulder at where she knows Chloe Beale is sitting, pen poised in her hand, ready to make notes.

The brunette gives her a small smile and a wink they both know means “thanks”. They have some sort of arrangement that involves Chloe poking Beca whenever she falls asleep in their lecture.

Chloe had done it once, the first time it happened, and ever since, she’s kept on doing it. And because Beca falls asleep in nearly every lecture — they’re at 9am, okay? — Chloe is constantly jabbing her back with her pen.

Beca has a major crush on Chloe, and really wants to repay her somehow, because she’s done nothing to thank her for the whole year, and she feels awful. She really should bring the girl coffee one day, but what if she gets her order wrong?

Yeah, that’s too risky. Beca supposes she could actually ask Chloe out for coffee, but she’s not sure she has the courage. She’s not exactly the most gifted of people when it comes to social interaction. Beca often wonders why Chloe continues to help her, even when she receives nothing in return.

Shoving her pencil into her mouth, Beca stares blankly at her page as she tries to work out the best way to ask Chloe to go on a date for coffee with her.

At the end of the lecture, Beca looks down at her page. It’s blank. _Great_. Now she’s going to have to ask Chloe for the notes as well. It’s kind of the redhead’s fault, because it’s her Beca was thinking about the whole time.

Beca can’t really blame her; it’s her lack of confidence that’s causing her problems. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flash of red walking past.

Chloe’s leaving. Shit. It’s now or never.

Beca stuffs her notebook in her bag and slings it onto her shoulder as she speeds after Chloe. She manages to catch her as she’s walking down the corridor.

“Chloe, wait,” she calls, her stomach churning as the redhead stops and turns. Beca comes to a stand in front of her, panting slightly. “Um, I just wanted to thank you for waking me up.”

Chloe looks a little confused, but smiles anyway. “No problem,” she says before turning and continuing her walk to her next class. _Shit shit shit, no. I have more to say,_ Beca thinks desperately.

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” Beca calls after her, running her fingers along the strap of her bag. What if Chloe says no? This is why Beca doesn’t do things like this. She doesn’t try to make friends because she’s awkward and never makes the first move.

She’s worried the redhead won’t stop, but she does — thankfully — and turns round once more. Chloe walks back towards her, a wide grin spreading across her lips. “I was wondering when you’d ask,” she teases, watching fondly as a faint blush rises to Beca’s cheeks.

“You were?” Beca’s surprised, because why the hell would Chloe want _her_ to ask her out? She’s a tiny nobody, and Chloe’s... she’s _gorgeous_.

“Of course! I’ve been saving your ass for the whole year!” Chloe giggles, and Beca’s stomach flips. She can’t help the smile that spreads across her lips, an overwhelming happiness settling inside her.

“Um, how does after class sound? Four o’clock at _Stacie’s_?” Stacie’s is Beca’s favourite coffee shop, and is also owned by her best friend and roommate, so she knows the quality is good. It seems like the perfect place to take Chloe. Apart from the fact Stacie will be watching them like a hawk and grilling her afterwards.

But for Chloe, Beca thinks it’s worth it.


	50. meant to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #50:  
> "wtf you're not my roommate, how did you get in here? oh sHIT you're really drunk aND NOW YOU'RE CRYING OKay okay it's okay shhhh, you can stay here i guess??" au

Chloe shuts her apartment door behind her, smiling with satisfaction as she hears it click. She's finally done for the week — five nine hour days have completely drained her — and she can't wait to crawl into bed and go straight to sleep. Stifling a yawn, she chucks her bag down in the hall and kicks off her shoes. She knows Aubrey will have a go at her in the morning, something along the lines of _“jesus Chloe can't you clean up after yourself for once?!”_ , but Chloe really doesn't care right now. She just wants to sleep.

The redhead presses a hand to her mouth to stifle another yawn, ascending the stairs as she does so. She pulls the hairband from her hair, letting her soft fiery locks free from their restraint. Chloe reaches a hand up to massage her scalp gently; her head aches from where the hair has been held in place all day. She's not actually sure whether Aubrey is home yet. The blonde had mentioned something about a date with Stacie, but Chloe can't really remember.

As she pushes open the door to her bedroom, she frowns. Even in the dark she can make out a human-sized lump in her bed. It's not like Aubrey to sleep in her bed, especially without her. And even then, they've shared a bed a grand total of twice, because Aubrey just isn't that kind of person.

Chloe fumbles to find the light switch, panic rising inside her when she realises the thing in her bed could be an intruder. What if she's about to be killed? Shit. There's so much she hasn't done. She hasn't even graduated from vet school yet, which is something she's dreamed of her _whole life._ The light flickers on, and Chloe can just about see a head poking out of her duvet. Is someone asleep in her bed?

This is definitely the weirdest thing that's ever happened to her. It even beats the time she'd found Stacie hanging out of Aubrey's bedroom window. (She'd later realised that the brunette had been trying to leave their apartment undetected. Clearly it hadn't worked.)

Chloe doesn't exactly have anything sharp to hand, so she frantically scans her room for something heavy. The heaviest thing she has, besides a piece of furniture, is a book. _Great_. That won't be of much help.

She decides to approach cautiously and just pray that whoever it is isn't an axe-murderer or something. It's unlikely. Or is it?

 _Okay Beale, you can do this,_ she whispers to herself, taking a careful step forwards. Chloe continues until she reaches the edge of the bed. The lump still hasn't moved; she isn't sure whether that's a good sign or not. _What if they're dead? Nope, don't think about that. I can do dead animals, just not humans._

She grips the corner of the duvet and counts herself in on three. And then, she rips the covers back. She can't help but scream, because there's an actual girl in her bed, curled up in a ball, clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels. The loud noise seems to wake the girl, because she bolts upright, her eyes wide. Chloe goes quiet as she takes in the clearly drunk girl's appearance.

She has black tear tracks running down her face, her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks are blotchy. In short, she’s a mess. "Who are you? You're not my roommate?" Chloe says, swallowing nervously. The girl takes another swig of the alcohol before placing it on the table next to the bed. She then turns towards Chloe and lies back down, curling up into fetal position. The redhead's heart aches for her, because she's obviously not in a good place right now.

"I'm saaaaad," the girl slurs, scrunching her face up tightly. Chloe watches her bottom lip wobble and feels her own stomach twist. She doesn't deal well with tears, because she has an intense need to help those that need helping.

"Hi Sad, I'm Chloe," she says, smiling gently. The girl giggles, a nervous smile spreading cross her lips. Chloe perches on the edge of her bed, wondering how the hell she got into this situation.

"No silly, my name is Beca," the brunette corrects, propping herself back up in the bed. She reaches across to grab the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels, her fingers wrapping clumsily around the neck of the bottle. Chloe winces as Beca brings the bottle to her lips, not even flinching when the burning liquid slides down her throat. The redhead tugs the bottle from the small girl's grasp before she can finish it. "Noooooo," Beca whines, pouting sadly.

"That's enough," Chloe says softly, moving away to put the bottle on the other side of her room. When she turns back to Beca, she sees fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping down onto her neck. "Shhh, it's okay, it's okay," she soothes, pulling Beca into her arms. The brunette shifts closer into Chloe's embrace and tucks her face into the redhead's neck, wrapping her legs around her middle.

Chloe strokes Beca's back comfortingly, whispering soothing words into her ear as the brunette sobs, the force of them causing her body to shake. They stay that way for a few more minutes, until Beca swallows thickly and pulls back. "Sorry," she mumbles, her voice laced with guilt and sorrow.

"It's okay," Chloe assures, tucking a loose strand of Beca's chocolate locks behind her ear. She smiles warmly at the girl, because despite her smeared makeup and blotchy skin, she looks _beautiful_. Her dark eyes are glossy in the light and her hair is falling messily in her face, but it's adorable and Chloe wonders if somehow it's meant to be. Why else would she have found Beca in her bed?

Actually, that reminds her. How did Beca actually get in? Now probably isn't the time to worry about that, so Chloe sets aside the question for the morning.

She shifts, untangling herself from Beca so she can get changed. (She's currently in jeans and it's really not that comfortable.) Beca seems to think she's leaving for good, because she latches herself onto Chloe's arm and refuses to let go. "Please don't leave me," she begs, tears sliding down her cheeks once more.

"I'm just getting us some clothes, okay?" Chloe says, trying to pry Beca's fingers from her arm. The brunette just frowns and shakes her head vehemently, tightening her already strong grip.

"No. Come cuddle with meeeee," she whines stubbornly, tugging the redhead towards her. Chloe falls back onto the bed, groaning quietly as her arm is practically pulled from it's socket. Beca clutches it possessively to her chest, stroking the soft skin like it's some kind of animal. It's all a bit strange.

"But I need to change," Chloe protests, lying still. Her jeans are rather uncomfortable, but other than that, she could probably fall asleep like this. She really does want her arm back though. Beca's still stroking it and kissing her fingers, which is rather disconcerting.

"Take off your clothes then," the brunette replies simply, poking Chloe's arm. She frowns down at it, then pokes it again. It's actually kind of funny. Chloe stays silent for a moment, watching fondly as Beca pokes and taps her arm, staring curiously at is.

"It's an arm," Chloe supplies helpfully, causing Beca's eyes to snap up. Navy eyes cloud with confusion, and she looks back down at the limb she's holding.

"A what?"

"An arm," she repeats, laughing.

"Like an army?" Beca sounds so confused it's adorable. It's as if she's a toddler, discovering the world for the very first time.

"No, Becs. It's part of my body."

"Oooh, body. I like your body." Beca wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, coaxing a sweet giggle from Chloe's lips. She's so tired, but it seems that around Beca, she can't help but smile and laugh.

"Thanks. How about we get some sleep?"

"Hmmm..." Beca hums like she's considering the suggestion, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Only if you cuddle with me," she concludes.

"Okay. Let me just change," Chloe says, trying to pull back. She manages to snatch her arm from Beca's grasp, but it causes the brunette to gasp loudly. Chloe hopes the girl isn't about to cry again, but when she looks into her eyes, she just sees them twinkling brightly, perhaps with a hint of mischief.

"No! Jeans off, then cuddle," Beca yells, pulling Chloe closer again. She wraps her arms tightly around the redhead's neck and buries her head in her chest, inhaling vanilla and strawberries.

"Alright Becs," Chloe agrees with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to Beca's cheek. Perhaps it really is meant to be.


	51. mexico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #51:  
> Hey beautiful:) I would love a fic on chloe without any memory of her life with beca and their little daughter after an accident. She doesnt remember that she is the biological mother, that they just got married and so on. But then the bellas wanna go to mexico and chloe finds out by accident after keeping her distance. Thank you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> never thought i’d ever reach past fifty one shots wow i’m committed. anyway, here’s a prompt i received on tumblr. its @annaakendriick if you want to request one!

Beca clenches her jaw as she watches Chloe talk to Emily, her head tipping back with laughter at something the young woman says. She blinks rapidly as she wills the welling tears not to fall.

She’s cried too much recently; she doesn’t know how she has any tears left. It hurts to watch her wife joke and laugh with the Bellas as if she remembers the last ten years.

Beca remembers the day Chloe woke up like it was yesterday. She remembers the crushing pain in her heart, like it was being squeezed into dust mercilessly. She’d watched, tears streaming down her cheeks as Chloe turned to her, smile wide.

 _“I’m so glad you’re my best friend”_ , she’d said, the words whispered into Beca’s ear as they embraced. Chloe didn’t remember that they were married, that they had a gorgeous daughter together. Chloe didn’t remember carrying Hailee in her stomach for nine months, didn’t remember the night she was born.

She didn’t remember any of it.

Beca had been too distraught to pretend everything was fine. Aubrey had explained to her that she’d been in an accident, and that she was missing ten years of her life. Of course, Chloe remembered Aubrey, but she didn’t remember anyone else.

Chloe had taken it all rather well, and had quickly formed fast friendships with the rest of the girls. Beca couldn’t do it, and she still can’t bear the thought of acting as Chloe’s best friend, unable to have her in the way she had for four years.

Six years of dating, four years of marriage, three years of having a child. All gone. All forgotten.

It kills her a little more every day.

Stacie had suggested they all go on holiday to Mexico, to _“bond”_. It’s just them, the original Bellas. Emily’s girlfriend Sami is looking after Aubrey and Stacie’s daughters, Bella and Carmen. Jesse and his wife Tina are looking after Hailee for the week, despite Beca’s protests that the little redhead could come with her.

They’d told her that they’d be happy to spend a week with their goddaughter, and Beca knew Hailee would have fun with them. Her and Jesse’s daughter Izzy are the best of friends, so it all worked out rather well.

Beca didn’t want to come, originally. Hell, she still doesn’t want to be here. But she is. Aubrey had begged her to come, claiming that it would be a chance for her to start building a friendship with Chloe.

Beca wasn’t interested, because how can she look at the stunning woman without memories of their marriage floating before her eyes? It’s too painful.

But after another talk from Jesse, Beca had reluctantly agreed to come, but had made everyone promise not to force her to talk to Chloe. They’d promised easily, more focused on getting Beca to come than forcing a friendship between her and her wife.

They’ve told Chloe everything apart from the fact her and Beca are married with a child. Beca had begged them not to tell her, because Chloe would never love her now. Not after all this time.

It’s been four days since they all arrived, and it’s been torture. Beca’s had to watch Chloe every second of the day, talking and laughing with her friends.

Sometimes one of them will look round and see Beca walking back up to the house, or find her lying in bed with her legs tucked up to her chest.

They never say anything. They just sigh and shoot her pitiful looks, wishing they could help. Beca hates it.

Chloe stares at her sometimes, her bright eyes full of the child-like curiosity Beca loves. She’s tried to approach the brunette a few times, but has never been successful. Beca always runs away before she gets too close.

They’re all sat round a campfire on the beach, talking and drinking mugs of hot chocolate. The sun is setting, pinks and reds streaked carelessly across the sky. It’s gorgeous, and Beca wishes she could appreciate it more.

She sips her hot chocolate silently as she watches her friends socialise. She’s not in the mood tonight, but she doesn’t want to be rude and go to bed. The chocolate tastes too sweet all of a sudden, and a wave of nausea rolls over her.

Beca places the mug down on the sand and drops her head into her hands. Tears slide down her cheeks as she curls into herself, wrapping her arms protectively around her middle.

She doesn’t feel the comforting presence beside her until it’s too late. “Um, Beca, are you okay?” It’s Chloe. _Shit shit shit._ Beca doesn’t look up, but she nods her head, because what else is she meant to do? “Are you crying?” Another shake of her head.

“Chloe, I wouldn’t…” Aubrey starts, her stomach twisting as she watches the redhead’s face fall. The poor woman looks so lost, her usually bright eyes clouded with confusion.

Beca stays silent, tucking her head into her chest as her shoulder shake with the force of her sobs. Chloe looks down at her, wishing she could reach out and comfort the crying brunette.

“Why not?” She asks, feeling her stomach twist as a quiet whimper escapes Beca’s lips. Chloe doesn’t know why her heart is aching for the small woman, but it is, and she hates it. She just wants to help, but no one will tell her why Beca won’t talk to her.

Chloe’s made friends with everyone she used to be friends with. Everyone except Beca. When she’d questioned Aubrey, the blonde had refused to speak on the matter.

“Chloe, just… come back over here,” Aubrey half hisses, grabbing Chloe’s wrist and dragging her away. Beca lifts her head up a fraction and shoots the tall blonde a thankful smile.

The tiny brunette rises from the seat silently, ignoring the eight pairs of eyes all watching her. She pulls her jacket tightly around her and begins trudging back up to the house, tears still dripping down her cheeks.

No one follows her, because they know that she needs some time alone. Chloe stares after her, even more confused than she previously was. “Guys, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

Chloe sits down again, biting her bottom lip nervously. She knows they’re hiding something, and she’s worked out by now it’s about her and Beca. But she can’t figure out what it is.

“Chloe, just drop it,” Aubrey says, pursing her lips tightly. Chloe watches as Stacie reaches out and rubs her wife’s thigh soothingly, successfully managing to get Aubrey’s shoulders to relax.

“No, I want to know,” she pushes, frowning. She doesn’t want to sound selfish, but if it’s about her and it’s the reason Beca won’t even look at her, then she thinks she has a right to know.

“Aubrey, we should tell her,” Fat Amy says suddenly, her voice unusually quiet. The blonde has been very respectful of Beca’s wish to keep Chloe in the dark about their marriage, which was a pleasant surprise to them all. (Amy usually can’t keep a secret to save her life.)

“But what if Beca doesn’t want us to. I don’t want to without her permission,” Aubrey says, her voice firm. Despite their early fights, the blonde and brunette are extremely close now. They actually have a lot in common — something they found out six years ago when they went for coffee together.

“Then we’ll go and ask her,” Cynthia Rose chips in. The rest of the girls nod in agreement, all sharing nervous looks. Chloe just watches, her curiosity peaking. So there _is_ something.

* * *

Aubrey goes into the house to ask Beca if it’s okay to tell Chloe. Beca says it‘s fine — _“I can’t hide it forever”_ — but declines being there to see it. She says prefers the option of staying in bed and mourning the loss of her wife. (Even though Chloe Beale isn’t dead, Chloe Mitchell is.)

The blonde exits the house to see the old Bellas standing in a huddle, waiting for the verdict. She gives a solemn nod of her head as she comes to stand in front of them.

Stacie grips Chloe’s hand for support, because she’ll probably need it. The redhead looks scared, because she has no clue what she’s about to be told.

“Chloe, as you realised, we’ve been keeping something from you. You’ve probably worked out it involves you and Beca. As you know, you’ve lost ten years of memory, and I can’t imagine what that’s like for you. We’ve told you most important things that have happened, except one.” Aubrey pauses to take a breath, running a shaky hand through her hair as she clears her throat.

“You and Beca have been married for four years, and Hailee, Beca’s child, is yours as well. You carried her, actually. Now you can see why she looks just like you.” The night is silent as Aubrey finishes; everyone’s watching Chloe, waiting for her reaction.

The redhead’s jaw drops, her expression crumbling as her legs give way beneath her. Cynthia Rose catches her and props her back up, asking her if she’s okay.

“Oh my god, poor Beca. This must be torture for her… knowing we’re married but she can’t have me the way she wants to. _Oh my god_ , and Hailee, the poor thing. She must be wondering where I am.” Chloe sounds so distraught by this that it’s actually kind of unsettling. They’d all thought she’d react differently, perhaps a little more shocked, but apparently not.

Chloe seems more concerned for Beca than the fact she just found out she’s married and has a daughter. Aubrey sighs with relief, because if that’s Chloe’s only concern, hopefully Beca will be willing to rebuild their relationship.

“Can I see her? I want to tell her that even though I don’t remember, I do love her. I can feel it in my heart. I want to remember so badly. I want this, with her. I want us to be together.” Chloe speaks with such raw passion; it’s beautiful. Jessica and Ashley are crying softly, holding each other tightly. Even Lilly has a few tears in her eyes.

It’s an emotional night.

“Yes, you’ll have to ask her if she’s okay with seeing you, but I’m sure it’ll be fine once you explain.” Aubrey takes Chloe’s hand and leads her into the house and up to Beca’s room.

“Beca? Can Chloe come in and talk to you?” She asks, knocking quietly on the door. A muffled reply comes from inside, which Aubrey takes as a yes. The blonde nods to Chloe, silently telling her to go easy on the brunette and be careful with what she says.

Chloe just nods and smiles gratefully. Once Aubrey’s left, she pushes the door open and steps inside. “Beca?” She watches nervously as the lump in the bed rolls over, and a head emerges from underneath the duvet.

“Hi,” Beca whispers, her voice still wet from her earlier tears. Chloe smiles sadly and takes a cautious step forwards.

“Um, so Aubrey told me about us, and I just wanted to say that—”

“If you’re going to tell me you don’t want to be in a relationship with me, then save it. I understand. If you want to see Hailee that’s fine,” Beca interrupts, her voice flat. Chloe’s slightly taken aback, but she doesn’t let it throw her off.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say. Please just hear me out?” When Beca nods slowly, Chloe can’t help but smile. “I may not remember our relationship, but I know in my heart that I love you. It’s just… it’s a feeling. I know I do. And I may not be able to tell you yet that I do because right now I barely know you, but I know that your wife loves you. She loves you so much. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to go on a date with you. I know it’s starting at the beginning for you, but I want the chance to fall in love with you, and get to know Hailee.”

Beca’s crying quietly when Chloe finishes, hot tears spilling from her eyes. “Are you being serious? Or are you just saying that because you feel bad?” Beca wants Chloe to be telling the truth so badly. She doesn’t care that they have to start again. If it means she can have her wife back, then she’ll do _anything_.

“Yes, of course I’m being serious,” Chloe assures, taking a seat on the edge of Beca’s bed. “I can’t wait to get to know you,” she adds, smiling warmly.

“God, I love you so much,” Beca whispers, pressing a kiss to Chloe’s fingers. She doesn’t have her Chloe back yet, but it’s a start.


	52. eyelids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #52:  
> please can you do a fic based on the song “eyelids” by pvris?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was painful to write, so i hope you’re left with the same sense of pain i was. it was good to write, though. i love a good challenge! you can listen to the song here

_I’ll face my fear of the evening_  
_Once I get used to this feeling_  
_I can’t sleep_  
_That’s when you’re torn away from me_  
_While I’m dreaming I feel you leaving_

Sometimes Beca tosses and turns in bed, sleep evading her as she stares blankly at the ceiling. Her mind is always a mess, thoughts running destructively through her mind as she listens to Chloe’s quiet, even breathing beside her.

She always ignores the ache in her heart as she turns her head to stare at the peacefully sleeping woman beside her, their legs tangled loosely together. The moonlight filters in through the crack in the curtain, illuminating Chloe’s soft hair fanned out on the pillow. She’ll eventually fall into a light slumber, sleep tugging her into it’s warm embrace.

It’s then that Beca will feel Chloe shift beside her, carefully pulling her legs away. She’ll stay still, pretending to be asleep as the redhead hastily pulls on her clothes from the previous night, throwing her hair up into a messy bun as she does so. Beca will listen to her leave, her stomach twisting painfully as her apartment door clicks shut.

A tear will roll down her cheek as she turns in bed, pressing her nose into Chloe’s pillow. She’ll inhale the fruity scent desperately, closing her eyes as she pretends Chloe is still beside her.

 _I’ll face my fear of the sunrise_  
_When I wake up with your hand inside mine_  
_It’s hard to say good morning_  
_When it’s followed with goodbye_  
_(Just wanted to say good night)_

Sometimes, if Chloe’s particularly tired after their nightly activities, she’ll stay the whole night. On those nights, Beca lies wide awake, wrapped up in Chloe’s gentle embrace. She cherishes those moments, savouring the tender moments she knows she’ll never be able to have.

Those nights are rare, and while it means more time with the woman she loves, it’s also more painful. Beca dreads sunrise every time, willing the moon to shine for just a little longer. She likes to think she’s friends with the moon. They talk a lot.

But when the moon says goodbye and the sun rises, pale colours streaking across the sky, Beca’s heart aches painfully. She’ll slip out of bed before Chloe wakes to make a pot of coffee, half hoping it’ll be the day the redhead chooses to stay. She never does.

Chloe will emerge from her room, her clothes pulled on hastily, as though she can’t wait to leave. Beca tries to ignore the desperation in Chloe’s voice as she mutters a quick goodbye, her bright, captivating eyes flitting round her apartment.

Beca doesn’t ask her to stay.

 _Our eyes fighting the light_  
_But I’m not ready to say good night, ooh_  
_I try and hold on tight ‘cause it’s just not time to say good night_  
_Say good night_

When Beca’s particularly exhausted from the hours of sex, she’ll grab Chloe’s hand and tangle their fingers together. They share soft smiles and loving caresses, both fighting sleep.

Beca doesn’t want to close her eyes, knowing that when she opens them again, Chloe will be gone. She isn’t ready to say goodnight. Not yet.

Chloe mumbles weak protests as Beca cuddles into her side, telling her to  _“just relax and go to sleep Becs”_ , but the brunette is desperate to cling onto the redhead for as long as she can.

 _I’ll face my fear of the cold nights_  
_When you leave me behind_  
_I felt your hands in my hair_  
_I felt your breath on my neck_  
_Yeah, I need to feel you again_  
_Just wanted to say good night_

On the rare occasions that Beca’s desperate for Chloe’s touch — even after they’ve collapsed, both panting for breath on Beca’s bed — she’ll shake Chloe awake and start kissing down her neck teasingly.

It’s an unhealthy way to hide her hurt, but it feels good while it’s happening, so Beca can’t exactly say she regrets it. Chloe, of course, never says no, and gladly accepts Beca’s hot, open-mouthed kisses on her neck.

Chloe will tangle her fingers in Beca’s hair as her back arches off the bed, soft moans slipping past her lips as the brunette pushes two fingers inside her.

Beca watches mesmerised as Chloe let’s go, her eyes locked on the redhead’s expression of ecstasy. She’ll flush with pride at the sight, glad she has the chance to offer Chloe such joy.

It’s almost enough to quell the pain deep in her stomach. Almost, but not quite.

 _Our eyes fighting the light_  
_But I’m not ready to say good night, ooh_  
_I try and hold on tight ‘cause it’s just not time to say good night_  
_Say good night_

Beca doesn’t know why she doesn’t ask Chloe to stay. She thinks about it often. (Some would say perhaps a little _too_ _often_ ). It’s not that she’s worried Chloe will say no — she’s lying, she’s terrified of that — but it’s more the thought that Chloe simply doesn’t want to stay.

Beca doesn’t even think Chloe likes her. Sure, she likes the sex, and she likes the cuddles afterwards, but Beca’s sure that Chloe doesn’t give two shits about her. It’s what’s expected though, since they’d both entered into this… arrangement with the agreement that it was strictly casual.

At the time, Beca had no problem promising to that, but she hadn’t quite realised she’d fall in love with Chloe. She hates herself for it, because why can’t she fall for someone actually available for once?

But loving Chloe Beale is a wild ride, a ride Beca doesn’t think she wants to get off.

 _These eyes are closed again for yet another night_  
_I wake up and I can feel you by my side_  
_But I can’t find you in the dark when you’re so far_  
_Yeah, that’s the hardest part_  
_Here comes the hardest part_

Sometimes Beca really cries, her sobs wracking through her body, causing her shoulders to shake violently. But sometimes it’s the kind of crying that makes your jaw ache, the silent kind that rips you apart inside.

Every time she feels Chloe slip from her embrace, her heart breaks a little more. One day she’ll break, she knows she will. One day she’s bound to cry in front of Chloe, begging her to stay and love her.

But for now, Beca saves the ugly sobs and painful tears till after her apartment door clicks shut, the sound echoing through the apartment in the silence of the night.

 _Our eyes fighting the light_  
_But I’m not ready to say good night, ooh_  
_I try and hold on tight 'cause it’s just not time to say good night_  
_To say good night_

The first time Chloe cancelled on their… plans, Beca was angry. It was for a date. A date. A jealous rage twisted inside her, stabbing viciously at her stomach as she retched into the toilet. But then Beca had remembered that her and Chloe were only “fuck buddies” (god, how she hates that term). Chloe’s allowed to date other people.

Beca still has to remind herself of that every time Chloe cancels. (Which, to be fair, isn’t a lot, but it still hurts when she does.) She still curls up on her bathroom floor, heaving into the toilet as tears slide down her cheeks. She still panics sometimes, her breathing erratic as she rocks herself back and forth, trying to calm herself down.

Beca’s tired, but she’s managing.

 _I mean in what world do I go to sleep after you and wake up before you_  
_I don’t even know how it happens_  
_Well I hope you’re having sweet dreams_  
_And you call me when you wake up_

One day, Beca finds the courage to tape a note to her door for Chloe to find when she leaves.

_**Please stay.** _

It’s Beca’s last hope, her last act of desperation. She’s a nervous wreck that night, tossing and turning on the far side of the bed so she doesn’t wake Chloe.

The redhead seems to sense Beca distress, because one minute she’s sleeping peacefully, and the next she’s pulling the brunette into her arms, whispering soothing words into her ear.

Beca falls asleep with her head on Chloe’s chest, calmed by the steady beat of the older woman’s heart. As her mind begins to shut down, she wonders if Chloe will be there when she wakes up, holding her just as tightly as she is now.

She is.


	53. toddler (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #53:  
> “i lost my son at the grocery store and you found him and now it seems like you two are best friends and he doesn’t wanna lose contact with you so it seems like i’ll have to get your number - at least you’re hella cute” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a mini writers block but i think it’s over now? first time writing bechloe + children so sorry if it sucks.

As soon as Beca feels a hand on her leg, she whirls round, fist raised, ready to punch someone. But there’s no one there. Something squeezes her leg, so she drops her gaze downwards, frowning curiously.

There’s a child attached to her.

A little boy, maybe two or three, is wrapped around her leg, a cheeky grin on his face. Beca has never liked children much; they’re icky and cry way too much to be acceptable.

This child is obviously not hers, but it’s not like she can just leave it, can she? She may dislike toddlers but she’s not heartless (despite what many are led to believe).

Beca smiles nervously as she places the bag of pasta in her trolley and looks back down. The boy is smiling and smacking her leg gently, his cute chubby hands moving back and forth.

Beca finds herself oddly transfixed at the sight, and her heart flutters softly. Perhaps children aren’t as bad as she thought.

But then his face creases into a frown, and he opens his mouth. Loud cries begin to fill the air, tears rolling down his cheeks. His puffy cheeks quickly turn red, and he begins to wave his arms around.

Beca freezes, her eyes going wide with panic. People in the aisle begin to stare at her, and she realises she has to do something. The problem is, she has no idea what the fuck she’s supposed to do. How do you calm a baby down?

Picking it—no, _him_ up is probably the best way to start. Chewing nervously on her bottom lip, Beca bends down and lifts the boy into her arms. _God_ , he’s heavy. She’s heard that they’re a lot heavier than they look. The cute chubbiness has to have some kind of repercussion, she supposes.

The only thing Beca’s seen with babies in is _Friends_ , and if she remembers correctly, you have to told them to your chest or something? And cradle their head? Or is that just newborns?

Beca has no fucking clue, but he’s _still_ crying and people are _still_ staring, so she has to do _something_.

Scrunching up her nose, the brunette pulls the toddler close to her body and sways slightly. She winces as the boy buries his face in her neck and sobs, the tears soaking her skin.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Beca whispers, repeating the words she’s heard other moms say to soothe their children. She strokes his back simultaneously, still rocking back and forth.

And then, miraculously, the boy stops crying. The shop quietens once more, and Beca lets out a heavy sigh of relief. Thank _fuck_. She’s actually quite proud of herself for calming him down, especially since it’s her first time anywhere near a child under sixteen.

The toddler snuggles into her neck, his eyelashes sticky with tears. He wraps his chubby arms round her neck, and Beca can’t help but smile. Perhaps toddlers really aren’t as bad as she thought. He’s actually adorable.

A young woman appears beside Beca, tears tracks glistening on her red cheeks. Her eyes are wide with worry, but they immediately soften when she sees the child in Beca’s arms. “Oh thank _god_ ,” she breathes, her shoulders sagging.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Yes, I am now. I’m Chloe, by the way. Teddy keeps running off! I’m so glad you found him. How did you calm him down? He usually hates other people.” Chloe stares at Beca curiously as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I just picked him up,” Beca tells her honestly, still rubbing soft circles on Teddy’s back. A cute name for a cute boy. “He quietened when I started rubbing his back.”

“You’re like a baby whisperer! Not even I can calm him down sometimes and I’m his _mother_ _!_ ” Chloe giggles, the sound soft and melodic. Beca’s stomach flips, a nervous smile stretching across her lips.

“I’m, uh, really not that good. I’ve never even been near a baby before,” she admits guiltily, attempting to hide her face in Teddy’s short hair. It doesn’t work. Chloe laughs in disbelief.

“No way! You’re lying!”

“Nope. It’s the truth.” Beca just grins, a sense of pride swelling inside her gut.

“Wow,” Chloe says, smiling flirtatiously. “I better get this one home, anyway. It was nice to meet you. And thank you for calming him down.” There’s a hint of reluctance in the redhead’s tone, and Beca frowns.

She now realises that doesn’t want Chloe and her adorable son to go. She’ll never see them again. She feels attached to the little boy now, and she curls her arms around him protectively. Chloe just smiles at her a little sadly, like she knows how she feels.

“Come on Teddy, time to go,” Chloe says, poking her son’s side. The boy looks up and giggles, grinning toothily at the two women.

But as soon as the redhead reaches out to pull him from Beca’s arms, his face scrunches up and his mouth opens. “No no no, Mister,” Chloe grumbles, tugging the boy into her arms. He lets out a wail, his arms flailing and grabbing at the air.

Beca watches sadly as he cries, wishing she could hug and soothe him as she did earlier. Since when did she get all soft and sappy about babies?

“Nooooo!” Teddy screams, thick tears sliding down his cheeks. “I want to stay!” He reaches out again, this time latching onto Beca’s finger. He clings to it tightly, refusing to let it go.

“Teddy, please stop,” Chloe mumbles, her face flushing in embarrassment. Beca just smiles at Teddy and jigs her finger up and down. The boy trains his eyes on it and laughs suddenly, his tears forgotten.

Chloe sighs and looks up at Beca. “I’m sorry about this,” she starts. “Would it be okay if I got your number? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave if I don’t promise him we can see you again. You don’t have to, of course, because you barely know me and—“

“I’d love to,” Beca finds herself saying, hope shining in her eyes. Chloe sighs with relief and grins.

“Thank goodness! And you’re cute, so lucky me!” The redhead winks, smirking proudly as Beca’s jaw drops and she blushes.

Teddy giggles again, looking between the two women. This makes Beca laugh, and soon Chloe’s laughing too, tears leaking from her eyes. No one knows what’s so funny, but they all just stand there laughing, while getting strange looks from other customers.

Beca concludes that babies are amazing. It’s a fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow my blog @annaakendriick for more!


	54. toddler (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #54:  
> I really want to see a part 2 now, where the three meet again ;) and Could you please do a part two to this one? I need some cute fluff in my life and this particular au made me really frickin happy for some reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t normally two second parts to my oneshots but this made me happy so i decided to make an exception! this part is kinda short, but i wrote it quickly so i could upload something!
> 
> i had a busy day and eventful evening so didn’t have a chance to write anything earlier.
> 
> nevertheless, i hope you enjoy, and this lives up to your expectations!

Three months later, Beca still hasn’t received a text from Chloe Beale. She guesses life got in the way and she just hasn’t had time to send a message, but part of her is worried the woman just doesn’t want her to be around Teddy again.

It’s upsetting, because Beca thinks her and the little boy really clicked. She doesn’t just think it; she knows it. Work keeps her busy, but she thinks of the two adorable redheads everyday.

Beca’s sat in her apartment, working on a new mix, but she just can’t concentrate. The place feels too big, and she feels too small, and she just wishes she had someone to share it with. It’s no good being a successful music producer if she has no one to share the wealth with.

Pushing her chair back, Beca stands and pulls her headphones off. She needs some fresh air. She grabs her coat and leaves her apartment, the air around her hot and stuffy.

As soon as she steps outside, the cool breeze washes over her, and she smiles. Beca hates walking usually, but a nice stroll in the park is just what she needs on a day like today.

She crosses the street and heads into the park, her heart clenching when she sees a group of children running round happily, smiling and laughing.

Beca had always thought she’d hated children, but ever since meeting Teddy, she’s been a little obsessed with them. She’s decided she wants her own one, but she’s not quite sure if it’s something she could do alone. Raising a baby with no help seems a little daunting to her.

The small brunette holds a great respect to all the single mothers out there, because damn, she’s pretty sure she’d struggle if she had to do it.

She doesn’t know how the hell Chloe manages.

Wanting a baby is all the more reason to find someone to share her life with. There just doesn’t seem to be anyone quite right for her. Beca’s been on tons of dates since she met the Beales, but she’s found fault in them all.

Her mind keeps taking her back to Chloe Beale.

Beca forgets all about the gorgeous woman as she sees a small child fall over across the field. She watches him sit up and start crying, his wails filling the previously quiet park.

Before she knows what she’s doing, Beca’s running across the field, towards the distressed child. There doesn’t seem to be anyone with him, which is all the more reason to calm him down herself.

As she nears, she freezes.

It’s Teddy. Teddy Beale. Chloe Beale’s son.

Beca reaches the boy and immediately swoops him up into her arms. “There there,” she soothes, rubbing his back. She hopes it’ll still work. And sure enough, Teddy’s cries begin to subside.

He leans back and looks up at her. “Beca! Beca!” He squeals, grinning. Beca beams at him and pokes his nose, eliciting a high-pitched giggle.

“Hey buddy,” she coos, tickling his sides gently. Teddy laughs loudly and squirms in her arms, hitting her chest feebly with his chubby hands. “Where’s your Mommy, hmm?”

“Dunno,” the boy says, shrugging his little shoulders. Beca holds him tightly as she scans the field, trying to spot fiery red hair.

“Come on Ted, let’s go find her.” Teddy sits happily in her arms as she begins walking across the park, squinting her eyes in the light. It’s quite chilly, and Beca regrets not bringing a warmer coat.

“Bec, look! There she is!” Beca turns her head at Teddy’s cry, following where he’s pointing with her eyes. Sure enough, there’s Chloe Beale, standing with her head in her hands.

Beca walks quickly towards her, only stopping to release Teddy from her arms. As soon as his feet land on the ground, he runs towards his Mommy, little arms outstretched.

“Mommy! Mommy!” He screams, his voice gleeful. Chloe’s head snaps up at the sound of her son’s voice. She lets out a small cry of relief and picks him up, cradling him to her chest.

“Oh baby, please don’t run away again. Mommy was so scared,” she whispers, peppering kisses all over his face. Teddy just smiles and smacks her cheeks lightly.

“I saw Beca!”

“You did?” Chloe asks, surprised. She feels guilty for not texting Beca. She knows it’s been three months, and she really does feel awful, but she just hadn’t wanted to bother the woman.

Chloe’s convinced that Beca only agreed to see them again out of politeness, so she hadn’t wanted to disturb the brunette’s life and ask her to meet up. Teddy, of course, keeps asking, but she just tells him that Beca’s busy. It’s hard.

“Uh, hi,” a voice says quietly. Chloe turns round to see Beca standing there, smiling softly. She blushes immediately, guilt twisting in her stomach.

“Hey, um, look, I’m sorry for not texting. I just thought that you’d be too busy to meet up. You probably only agreed to it to be polite so I didn’t want to bother you, you know? I mean, you have a life and no time for Teddy and I. It’s totally okay though, I—“

“Chloe, stop,” Beca says firmly. “I did not agree to be polite. I agreed because I wanted to see you guys again. I think of you often. Wait, that sounds creepy.”  
Chloe giggles, causing Teddy to laugh too. His bright eyes light up like his mother’s, and Beca swoons. God, could they be any more adorable?

“Do you want to go grab a coffee?” Beca asks, reaching out to ruffle Teddy’s hair. The boy grins and grabs onto Beca’s hand, clutching it tightly.

“I’d love to,” Chloe says, smiling. She watches fondly as Beca and Teddy interact, both wearing huge smiles.

She hopes something more comes of this newfound friendship, because there’s no one else Chloe would rather share Teddy with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> head over to @annaakendriick on tumblr for more!


	55. prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #55:  
> “we just found our old prom video and omG you liked me all that time ago??” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is based off the scene in friends, episode 2x14, where they all watch monica and rachel’s old prom video and see that ross has had a crush on rachel since high school. enjoy!
> 
> (oh and also pretend that aubrey and beca are sisters.)

“Hey Chlo, what’s this?” Aubrey holds up an old disc, her brow furrowed. Chloe just shrugs and takes it from her friend’s hands, inspecting it closely.

“I’ve no idea. Let’s watch it,” she suggests as she moves over to the DVD player. Everyone gathers round the TV, curious as to what’s on the disc.

As soon as it starts playing, Beca freezes. It’s their prom video. Shit shit _shit_. She really can’t let Chloe watch this. “Uh, guys, we really don’t have to watch this,” she says, laughing nervously.

“No, I want to.” Chloe settles back onto the couch and grins at Aubrey. The two shift closer together as the reminisce their childhood.

Beca swallows anxiously and fiddles with the hem of her jumper, wanting nothing more than to run from the room. They watch as the camera zooms in on Chloe and Aubrey, both in gorgeous dresses as they wait to leave.

_“You look great, sweetie,” Aubrey’s mom says, her voice proud. Mark, her dad, walks closer to the pair, catching them mid-laugh.  
_

_“Thank you Mommy,” Aubrey replies sweetly, playing with the jewels round her neck. Chloe stands beside her, smiling softly at the camera.  
_

_“I can’t believe I don’t have a prom date,” she whines, jutting her bottom lip out slightly. Aubrey turns to her and frowns, her expression sympathetic.  
_

_“Oh Chlo, you don’t need anyone,” she consoles, patting her friend on the arm. Aubrey was asked to prom by her boyfriend Jesse, of course, but Chloe hadn’t been asked by anyone decent. A few of the nerdy kids had tried, hoping she’d say yes, but they weren’t exactly the kind of dates you’d want.  
_

_“But… I just can’t believe I’m going alone to my own prom.” A small sob escapes Chloe’s lips, and Aubrey pulls her into a comforting hug.  
_

_The camera then moves away from the two girls and lands on Beca, who’s sat on the stairs looking miserable. “Hey Beca,” Mark says, walking over to her.  
_

_“What?” She grumbles, yanking out an earphone. Beca wasn’t asked to prom by anyone. No one wanted to go with the silent, moody alt girl with thick-rimmed glasses.  
_

_“You should take Chloe to prom,” Mark suggests, the camera still trained on his daughter. Cheryl moves to sit beside her daughter and takes Beca’s hand in her own.  
_

_“Har har, very funny,” Beca deadpans, fiddling with the cord of her earphones. “Like she’d want to go with a weirdo like me.” The small brunette looks saddened at her own words, and runs a shaky hand through her hair._

Beca watches her younger self, fear rising inside her. Chloe is going to find out she likes her, and has done for all these years. She can’t watch. She can’t. It’s too painful. Chloe will hate her after this. Their friendship is ruined.

“Uh, guys, can we turn this off now?” She begs, stepping backwards. Panic bubbles up inside her chest, wrapping it’s fingers round her heart.

“No, leave it on. I want to watch it,” Chloe says, not looking away from the screen. Beca feels tears prick in her eyes as she turns and walks towards the door, ready to leave.

But she can’t.

Part of her masochistic self needs to stay and see Chloe’s reaction. She can’t live with not knowing. Even though she knows she’ll be rejected, she needs the closure.

_“Cheryl, talk to your daughter,” Mark says, his voice gentle. He knows how badly Beca likes Chloe, knows how badly she pines after her when she’s out with other girls and boys.  
_

_“Come on Becs, there’s no harm in offering. Look at the poor girl, crying over there.” The camera pans back to where Chloe’s stood, sobbing in Aubrey’s arms. Jesse stands awkwardly to the side, waiting with a white rose in his hand.  
_

_“Fine,” Beca mumbles, unable to watch Chloe cry any longer. Even if she offers to go as friends, it’s better than leaving the gorgeous redhead to go alone.  
_

_“Come on sweetie, you can borrow one of my dresses.” Cheryl leads Beca upstairs and into her room, immediately picking a black dress out of her closet. She pushes it into Beca’s arms and ushers her into the bathroom, telling her to change quickly.  
_

_Two minutes later, Beca steps back into her parents’ bedroom, the dress clinging tightly to her soft curves. Beca may be closed off and socially anxious, but she’s beautiful under the heavy eyeliner and thick glasses she wears.  
_

_“Wow Beca, you look gorgeous,” Cheryl breathes, pinning the brunette’s hair back with a few bobby pins. Beca smiles nervously and blushes, unused to being complimented.  
_

_Her mom hands her a red rose to give to Chloe, then guides her towards the stairs. But as she reaches the top, she sees Chloe and Aubrey leaving the house. The redhead has a girl on her arm, one of her friends from her cheerleading team.  
_

_Beca’s heart drops, the rose falling from her hand. Tears slide down her face as she stares at the closed door, panic rising inside her. “Sweetie,” her mother begins, her voice gentle.  
_

_Beca lets out a choked sob and turns on her heel. She runs to her room and slams the door, tears rolling down her cheeks. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. Stupid stupid stupid.  
_

_“Oh Mark,” Cheryl says, turning to her husband with tears in her eyes. He wraps an arm round her, then she screen goes black._

Everyone turns to look at Beca, who’s stood with her back against the door, eyes wide. Tears glisten in her eyes as she takes in her friends’ shocked faces.

“Beca, we had no idea,” Aubrey says, her tone cautious. The brunette just gulps and looks down, twisting her hands together anxiously.

Chloe stays silent, her jaw hanging open in shock. She rises and walks over to Beca, her hands outstretched slightly. She cups the small woman’s cheeks and lifts her head up.

And then she presses her lips to Beca’s wrapping her arms around her neck. Beca leans into the kiss, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks as she snakes her arms round Chloe’s waist.

“It’s always been you,” Chloe whispers when they break apart. They’re both smiling uncontrollably, overjoyed.

Beca just grins and pulls Chloe back into her, kissing her with everything she has.


	56. stroking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #56:  
> person a forcing person b awake, but after smacking their face once or twice, a notes how soft b’s skin is and begins caressing b’s cheek instead. person b wakes up blushing and very confused
> 
> wherein beca is a and chloe is b

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is short, sorry! it’s in a kinda different style to the way i usually write. i was just experimenting with styles i guess? if it’s shit i apologise!
> 
> i want to write a multi chapter, but i don’t have a prompt, so if anyone has any ideas for a multi chap fic, then let me know!
> 
> check out @annaakendriick on tumblr for more :)

Beca’s had a long day.

She wants nothing more than to walk through the door to her apartment and have dinner with her girlfriend.

But she can’t, because it’s fucking eleven o’clock at night.

She hasn’t eaten since twelve.

She’s had an asshole client snapping at her from the recording booth for six hours. And then she’s been working on her own album which is taking a lot longer than she originally anticipated.

Beca’s stressed.

She’s been at work so much recently and she hates it because she hasn’t taken Chloe on a date in forever like she deserves. Beca knows her girlfriend deserves better, and she’s told her so, but Chloe won’t listen.

What in the world has she done to deserve a woman like Chloe?

Beca knows that she’ll have left her some dinner, wrapped in cling film on the counter. Beca knows her pyjamas will be folded neatly on her side of the bed, ready for her to slip on as soon as she gets home.

So yes, Beca knows she doesn’t deserve Chloe, not at all. But she has her, and she’s forever thankful for that.

After nodding a quick goodnight to the cleaner, Beca leaves the building and heads to her car.

It’s so icy the windscreen has frozen over.

Goddammit.

Beca sits in her car as the screen defrosts, tapping her foot anxiously as she watches the minutes flick by on the digital block. It’s freezing.

She officially hates winter.

* * *

Beca fumbles with the lock on the front door, her hand shaking from the cold. As soon as it swings open, she falls through, the warmth washing over her like a wave.

Thank god.

Her shoes come off in seconds, her coat following right after that. She barely manages to fling it onto the coat hook before she runs quietly up the stairs.

Beca pushes open the bedroom door and smiles softly at the sight. Chloe’s asleep in their bed, hair fanned out over the pillow.

Chloe looks like an angel.

The moonlight is falling just right, illuminating her soft curls and thick lashes. Her chest rises and falls evenly as she sleeps, a small smile playing at her lips.

Beca practically rips off her clothes, not even bothering to hang them up. Chloe will be annoyed at her in the morning, but she doesn’t care.

She hurriedly pulls her oversized t-shirt over her head and slips into bed. Her cold feet land on Chloe’s warm ones, and she sighs in satisfaction.

As Beca lies there, snuggling further into Chloe’s side, she wonders if Chloe knows just how much she loves her.

Sure, she’s said it before. Lots of times, in fact, but Beca has never told her girlfriend that she loves her more than life itself. And she hasn’t told her just how much she appreciates her in a while.

Knowing Chloe has to wake up early for work tomorrow, Beca decides that the redhead needs to know _now_. Why she’s suddenly convinced that Chloe absolutely _has_ to be woken up for this, she doesn’t know.

She’s tired, okay?

Beca reaches her arm round Chloe’s waist and smacks her cheek lightly. The older woman is quite a heavy sleeper, which is useful for thunderstorms, but unhelpful for just about _everything else._

And so Beca smacks a few times, wincing at the quiet slapping noises that echo round the room.

As her hand hits Chloe’s cheek again, she pauses. The skin is soft. And by that, Beca means really fucking soft. Softer than a fluffy cloud. Softer than a warm blanket. Even softer than Chloe watching cute kitten videos.

 _Hmm, nice._ Beca strokes her girlfriend’s cheek, revelling in the smooth texture of the skin beneath her fingers.

She’s _definitely_ sleep deprived.

Beca’s almost certain that, had she had a decent seven hour sleep in the last few days, she wouldn’t be doing this.

“This”, being weirdly stroking her girlfriend’s cheek because it feels nice.

Her hand stills when Chloe stirs.  
Beca quickly snatches her hand to her chest as her girlfriend rolls over next to her, eyes flickering open.

“Becs?” Chloe mumbles sleepily, fumbling for Beca’s hand. She grabs it and rests it back on her cheek, encouraging the brunette to continue her stroking.

“Hey Chlo.”

“It’s late.” Chloe frowns as she says it, and Beca swallows thickly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. I love you more than life,” Beca whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead.

Beca watches Chloe’s cheeks turn pink, illuminated by the moonlight. “I love you too baby,” the redhead replies, smiling.

“Now sleep.” Beca pulls Chloe’s head against her chest and resumes her gentle stroking of her cheek. The older woman sighs contentedly and snuggles into Beca’s embrace.

Waking Chloe up was so worth it.


	57. twins (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #57:  
> beca has a twin that comes to town to visit, and chloe ends up falling for her. but when she keeps comparing her to beca, she realises her feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i had idea for a short multi chapter fic which is _very_ briefly outlined in the chapter summary. i’m just going to post the few chapters on here as it’s easier. i’m thinking there will be three/four parts!
> 
> **PLEASE READ:**
> 
> stephanie, beca’s sister, is an original character, kind of inspired by calamity (ruby rose) from evermoist.
> 
> anyways, there will be angst, so here’s my warning! also tags for **mitchsen friendship**. i do not ship them as a couple, but i love aubrey being protective over beca!
> 
> chloe dates stephanie for a while too, so tags for **slow burn**. i didn’t like writing them together but it was necessary!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this mini multi chapter. enjoy! (and sorry for the long note.)

“Beca, what’s going on?” Chloe watches, bewildered, as Beca runs around their apartment, frantically cleaning every surface visible. She arranges and rearranges the cushions meticulously, humming aggressively under her breath as she tries to focus. Flowers are pushed haphazardly into a jar and dumped on the windowsill, the bright daffodils brightening up the room considerably.

It’s February, so Chloe’s not quite sure where her roommate aquired the flowers, but it’s probably best not to ask. Not now, at least.

She’s never seen Beca like this before. The small brunette is messy; she has clothes strewn all over her bedroom floor — _“it’s called a floordrobe, Chloe!”_ — and she doesn’t wash up her own dishes. Beca actually tidying up at all is a miracle, let alone so thoroughly.

Beca pauses in her wiping of the coffee table, her eyes wide and frantic as she looks up at Chloe.  “My sister is arriving in five minutes,” she mumbles.

Chloe freezes, and her jaw drops.

“You have a _sister?!_ ” She exclaims incredulously, half surprised, half outraged. “How come you’re only telling me this now?”

“We don’t get along.” Beca brushes past her best friend as she straightens out the cushions for at least the tenth time. Chloe stares, still shocked.

“Right… and you didn’t think to give me a little warning? Where is she staying?”

“Oh, she’s staying in a hotel. She’s only here for three days.” Beca finally comes to a standstill in the middle of their apartment, the duster still grasped between her fingers. Her previously styled hair is a mess, and her lipstick is a smudged from the amount of times she’s drawn her lip into her mouth to chew on it nervously.

“Becs, breathe.” Chloe moves over to where her best friend is standing, her heart melting as she sees the clear distress on her face. “It’s going to be fine, just relax.”

Chloe pulls Beca into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. The brunette wraps her arms around the older woman’s middle and buries her face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberries and cream. The scent of home.

“Thanks,” Beca whispers as she pulls away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She stares up at Chloe, her stomach fluttering as the woman smiles warmly.

“Anytime. Anyways, how bad can it be?”

* * *

Bad. Very bad, is the answer.

Beca stumbles into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the cool ceramic of the sink as she takes deep, gasping breaths. God, how could she be so stupid?

* * *

_**An hour earlier:** _

_Beca shoots up off the couch as the doorbell rings, the ringing echoing through the apartment. Swallowing nervously, she pulls open the door to reveal her sister.  
_

_Chloe gasps when she sees her; she’s_ identical _to Beca.  
_

_“Hey sis,” the woman says casually, offering a small smile as she steps into the apartment. Beca smiles tightly in response, choosing to stay silent.  
_

_“Hi,” Chloe says, stepping forward from where she’d been standing in the background. Beca had never mentioned how hot her sister is. Well duh, of course she’s not; she looks like Beca.  
_

_And anyone, male or female would argue that Beca’s insanely attractive.  
_

_“Woah, Bec, you never mentioned how hot your friend is. It’s Chloe, right?” The brunette moves forward to greet Chloe, opting for a friendly touch on the arm instead of the usual handshake.  
_

_Chloe nods her head mutely, temporarily stunned. This woman is just… wow. She’s speechless.  
_

_“Awesome, I’m Stephanie, but you can call me Steph,” she says flirtatiously, shooting Chloe a sly wink. Beca balks from behind them, her stomach sinking as she watches Stephanie and Chloe interact.  
_

_God, of all the things she thought would happen with her sister here, this was not one of them. Watching Stephanie flirt with her best friend and crush of ten years is like a punch to the gut.  
_

_It’s a cruel reminder of her childhood. Stephanie had always been the prettier one, the more talented one, the nicer one, the more sociable one. Beca had been the outcast, the black sheep of their family. Even though they were twins, people would say_ “well Stephanie just has a prettier face than you, dear” _._

_Beca’s glad her Aunt Cindy is dead.  
_

_“Earth to Beca,” Chloe calls, waving a hand in front of the brunette’s face. Beca snaps out of her trance, swallowing thickly as she walks over to the kitchen silently.  
_

_“She okay?” Stephanie asks, frowning. Chloe just shrugs, a little confused. She knows Beca was nervous for her sister to arrive, but she’s so much nicer than Chloe had expected, so she really doesn’t know what the problem is.  
_

_Stephanie places a hand on Chloe’s wrist and smiles, subtly shifting closer to her so their bodies are pressed against each other, side by side.  
_

_Beca watches from the counter, bile rising in her throat. Her heart cracks as her sister leans up to whisper something in Chloe’s ear, her lips brushing against the lobe teasingly. She watches the redhead shudder, a dopey smile spreading across her lips as she looks across at Stephanie.  
_

_Never before has Beca hated Stephanie as much as she does now._

* * *

Beca had watched the two women talk, her heart in her throat, for the best part of an hour.

Stephanie made Chloe laugh in a way only she could, and god, there was so much unnecessary touching. Flirtacious touching.

As soon as Stephanie had left to go and check in at her hotel across town, Beca knew she had to be away from Chloe. She couldn’t look at her right now.

Beca breathes in deeply and exhales, trying to calm her sporadic breathing. She can feel panic bubbling up in her throat, threatening to overwhelm her.

But she’s used to dealing with panic attacks alone, so she knows she’ll be fine.

After a few more minutes, Beca’s breathing returns to normal, and she slides down against the bathroom door, her legs giving way beneath her.

“Becs, you okay in there?” A soft knock sounds on the door, and Beca’s chest constricts once more. What if Chloe heard me? Then she’ll ask questions I really can’t answer.

“Yes yes, I’m fine,” Beca says, hoping the hoarse tone of her voice isn’t as audible through the door.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t mean to snap, but it just kind of happens and she isn’t about to apologise for it.

She hears Chloe take a step back on the other side of the door, and she tries to ignore the guilt that immediately stabs at her stomach when she hears the woman walks away.

Then Beca hears the sound of the door opening, and another voice inside the apartment. Aubrey. Beca sighs with relief. Ever since they’d become friends, Aubrey has been her biggest confidant.

It’s something neither of them would have expected, but something they’re both thankful for.

“Beca?” It’s Aubrey, standing outside the bathroom. Beca sighs.

“Yeah?”

“Chloe’s gone down to the shop quickly, do you want to come out now?”

Beca says nothing, but stands up slowly and slides back the lock on the door. Aubrey’s standing there, arms resting across her stomach as she waits.

“Hi,” the brunette mumbles, brushing past her friend and flopping down on one of the couches. Aubrey moves over to sit next to her and places a hand on her thigh.

“You okay?”

“Not really, no,” Beca admits.

“Wanna talk about it?” Aubrey’s hesitant as she asks, knowing that if she doesn’t tread carefully Beca could snap. Especially at a time like now, when she’s so vulnerable.

“Why her, Bree?” Beca’s voice is pained. She curls up into herself in the corner of the couch, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs as she draws them to her chest.

Aubrey thinks she looks so small and scared, and it’s unnerving. She’s not used to Beca crying and panicking. She’s used to the sarcastic badass she’s grown to love.

She’s not quite sure how to deal with Beca right now, but she’s adaptable, and knows she’ll be able to figure it out.

“Becs, I don’t know,” she says, sighing softly. She hates to lie. She has her own opinions on exactly why Chloe’s so enthralled by Stephanie, but she isn’t going to share them with Beca.

“We look the same. Why her? It must be my personality. It is, isn’t it? I’m too moody, aren’t I? God, Bree, why do I keep pushing her away? I just—“ Beca cuts herself off as a choked sob escapes her throat. Her shoulders shake as she cries, burying her head in her hands.

Aubrey shifts closer and wraps her in her arms, stroking her hair soothingly. She knows it calms Beca down. “There there, sweetie,” she coos, pressing a kiss to the top of the brunette’s head.  
Beca snuggles into Aubrey as her sobs slowly lessen into soft hiccups, glad for the support.

* * *

“Bree, you’ll never guess what!” Chloe bursts into the apartment, a bright smile on her face. Aubrey looks round from the TV, a fake smile already plastered in place.

She’s still annoyed at Chloe for throwing herself at Stephanie, and is prepared to stick up for Beca in any way she can.

“What?”

“Stephanie took me to this _amazing_ coffee place and I tried these cute mini cheesecakes! Oh my god Bree, I think I’m in love.” Chloe sighs dreamily and falls down onto the couch. Her eyes are sparkling and she’s practically glowing and Aubrey wonders how the hell this happened.

Stephanie is like a casual, relaxed Beca.

Chloe doesn’t do “casual and relaxed”. Chloe’s full on. She’s bright and bubbly and intense. She’s _certainly_ not “relaxed”.

“Chlo, you _just_ met this woman. What’s so special about her?” Aubrey tries to ignore the twist of her stomach. Chloe is her best friend but god, she can be _so_ dense sometimes.

Aubrey can only imagine how Beca feels. It’s lucky the brunette is out. (She went for coffee with Stacie, claiming that she needed some time away from the apartment.)

“She’s just… she’s amazing. She’s so hot and sexy and just has this kind of effortless quality to her. But she’s also kind and sweet and funny. She’s perfect,” Chloe rambles, a wide smile spread across her lips.

Aubrey’s stomach sinks because _no no no_ , this is _not_ how it’s meant to go. Chloe’s supposed to realise she’s in love with Beca and they’re supposed to go on dates and have a family together.

It’s officially a crisis.

“Chloe, Stephanie is staying for _three days_. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to get into anything,” Aubrey insists. She can’t let the redhead do anything stupid, especially something that’s going to end up hurting Beca.

“She said she was going to extend her stay to a month. She’s never visited LA before and she wants to sightsee a bit. Plus, she ran into an old friend from high school and she wants to catch up with her.” Chloe seems so happy and cheerful that Aubrey feels bad about trying to bring her down.

But she just _can’t_ let this happen.

“Sounds like you’re pretty smitten,” the blonde comments drily.

“I am. Oh Bree, what do I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? What? No! I’m going to ask her out,” Chloe says firmly, the cogs already turning in her mind. Aubrey’s eyes widen.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Chloe folds her arms across her chest defensively. Her eyebrows crease, and the smile on her lips turns into a frown.

“How do you think Beca will feel?” Aubrey says, tangling her fingers together. She taps her knuckles purposefully, hoping that Chloe will change her mind about this.

If she doesn’t, she has no idea what she’s going to do. Beca would be distraught.

“Why would Beca have a problem with it?” The fact that Chloe seems genuinely confused irks Aubrey more than she’d like to admit. How is Chloe so fucking blind?

But instead of snapping, the blonde takes a deep breath and forces a neutral expression. “You know how she is, Chlo. It’s her sister. You’re her best friend. It might be weird. And plus, Stephanie came to see _her_. You’ll be stealing her sister away.”

Chloe seems to absorb her explanation because she lapses into a thoughtful silence. Her nose scrunches up a little bit and her eyes shift focus.

It’s an expression Beca finds adorable. (Aubrey knows this because every time it appears on Chloe’s face, Beca points it out in a lovesick tone.)

“I think she’d be okay with it,” Chloe says finally. Aubrey fights the urge to stamp her foot on the floor. For fucks sake.

“You think?” If Chloe notices the fact her voice is suddenly an octave higher than usual, she doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah. I mean, she wants me to be happy, right? And if Stephanie makes me happy, I think she’ll be okay with it.”

Aubrey can’t argue with that, because she knows that when Chloe asks Beca’s permssion, the brunette will say yes.

The situation is now code red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that was the first part! i was going to do longer chapters and only have two parts but i was pretty excited to upload the first bit so i hope four shorter chapters are okay :)
> 
> let me know if you liked it! and as always, check out @annaakendriick on tumblr for more.


	58. twins (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here’s the next part! it’s a little shorter, but i’m super busy today and if i left it to write more i probably wouldn’t get it uploaded till tomorrow! i’ll try and write the next part tomorrow though :)
> 
> tags for **staubrey** ,, i love writing them to much tbh!

“You want to _what?_ ” Beca’s voice is quiet and vulnerable and everything she hates. She shrinks in on herself as Chloe smiles hopefully at her.

“I want to ask her out! Is that okay?” The happiness in her eyes is so clear and it _hurts_. It hurts more than she’s ever imagined it could. It’s a raw, ripping pain in her heart and it’s pure _agony_.

Beca freezes as she tries to form a sentence together. She’s going to say yes, of course. How can she not? She wants Chloe to be happy more than anything, and if Stephanie makes her happy then that’s something she’ll have to deal with.

Chloe’s face starts to fall as the silence stretches on. The sadness that glistens in the redhead’s eyes snaps Beca from her pained trance.

“I... It’s fine,” Beca blurts. It feels like her heart is physically splitting inside her rib cage, but she swallows it down and forces a weak smile. It drops off her face within a second; it seems she can’t pretend as well as she thought.

“Are you sure?” Chloe seems to sense something’s wrong, because she takes a step forwards and reaches out. Beca jumps back instinctively and wraps her arms around her middle as though she’s holding herself together.

“Yes. I’m sure,” she snaps. She really doesn’t mean to, and the wide-eyed hurt that appears on Chloe’s face only worsens the stinging pain in her heart. “I-I have to go.” Beca turns and runs from their apartment, the door slamming after her with a sense of finality.

Chloe stares after her, confusion bright in her cerulean eyes, wondering what she’s done.

* * *

 

Beca stumbles down the stairs, desperate to get outside. She needs air, proper air. It’s like the world is spinning and turning around her and she’s standing alone in the middle, watching it crumble.

She needs Aubrey.

With trembling hands, Beca reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She shakily taps in the blonde’s number, glad it’s committed to memory. (She’s needed it more times than she’d like to admit.)

It only rings once before the line is picked up.  _“Beca, what’s up?”_

“Bree,” Beca cries into her phone, tripping as her legs give way beneath her. She sinks down against the wall in the corridor, her sobs wracking through her body.

 _“Oh Beca,”_ Aubrey breathes, the wheels turning in her mind. She knows exactly what’s just happened, and she knows she has to be there for Beca no matter what. _“I’ll come and pick you up. Where are you?”_

“In my apartment building. In one of the corridors.”

 _“I’ll be there in five,”_ Aubrey says quickly before the line goes dead. Beca lets her phone fall from her grip as she brings her knees up to her chest. She wraps her arms around them as she cries, big aching sobs that make her jaw hurt.

Her chest feels empty, emptier than before. Chloe’s just ripped her heart out and stamped on it, laughing at her while she did it.

Beca’s phone rings from the floor next to her, the screen lighting up with Chloe’s name. It has a stupid heart next to it, because she’d been too in love to say no when the redhead added it six years ago. She doesn’t know why she’s never deleted it.

In a sudden spurt of anger, Beca grabs her phone and flings it at the wall opposite her. She watches as it smashes with a resounding crack.

It feels nice to see something other than herself break.

* * *

 

Aubrey arrives a few minutes later, slightly out of breath. It’s clear she’s been running.

Her heart breaks as she sees Beca curled up in a ball, her head tucked into her chest. From the even rise and fall of her chest, Aubrey guesses she’s asleep.

She gently lifts the brunette’s head to see the glistening tear tracks on her cheeks and badly smudged eyeliner. Tears prick at her own eyes, because she knows just how badly Beca’s in love with Chloe.

Aubrey isn’t even sure she can imagine the heartbreak her friend must feel. Her heart hurts just thinking about it.

She doesn’t want to wake Beca, so she pulls her into her arms and picks her up. All her work at Fallen Leaves seems to have paid off. After carefully brushing the brunette’s hair from her face, she carries the small woman out to her car.

Stacie’s waiting in there for her, tapping her fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. She looks up as soon as the door to the backseat opens.

“Is she okay?” She asks her Aubrey cautiously, aware of how close the two girls are. Some would be jealous, but Stacie knows how faithful her girlfriend is. She’s just glad they finally get on after years of being at each other’s throats.

“No,” Aubrey says simply as she straps Beca in. She sighs as she closes the door and falls into the passenger seat beside Stacie. “God, this is such a mess.”

“Oh babe.” Stacie places a comforting hand on Aubrey’s thigh and rubs small circles slightly on the inside. The blonde’s shoulders immediately drop, the tension falling away.

“I just… This is so unlike Chloe, you know? I never thought she would do something like this.” Aubrey presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose and turns to Stacie. “What do I do? I want to be happy for Chloe but I just can’t. I have to support Beca through this.”

“Of course you do, baby. But you’re right, this is so unlike Chloe.” Stacie pauses thoughtfully, taking Aubrey’s hand in her own. “Um, do you think that maybe Chloe is doing this because she’s subconsciously pretending it’s Beca?”

Aubrey’s eyes widen suddenly. “Holy shit, Stace, you must be right! That must be the reason for Chloe doing this.”

Suddenly it all makes sense.

Of course Chloe’s been in love with Beca for years, and _of course_ she hasn’t realised it yet. Chloe’s trying to get over Beca without even realising what she’s doing.

“What are we going to do?”

* * *

 

Chloe’s sad.

She doesn’t exactly know why — well she kind of does, but it’s stupid — and she hates it. When Beca gave her permission to ask her sister out, instead of feeling happy, she felt almost sad.

She has no reason to feel that way; Stephanie is gorgeous and wonderful and she really likes her. She wants to ask her out. Doesn’t she?

Chloe doesn’t really know anymore. There‘s something about Beca’s response that doesn’t sit right with her, and it’s making her uneasy. She can’t help but think Beca doesn’t want her to date her sister.

She said it was okay. But Beca’s like that, isn’t she? She sacrifices things to make others happy, never thinking of herself. Chloe knew Beca would do anything for her, so what if the brunette had just said yes to appease her?

Sighing frustratedly, Chloe picks up hey phone and tries calling Beca again. She’s tried thirty times now, but it keeps going to voicemail.

 _Stop worrying, Beca’s fine with it. You’re overthinking things,_ she tells herself.

Chloe gets up from her bed and walks over to her closet. She’s going to get dressed, ask Stephanie out and definitely push all thoughts of Beca from her mind.

* * *

 

“Is she still sleeping?”

“Yeah, she’s clearly exhausted.” Aubrey sinks down on the couch next to her girlfriend and sighs. Stacie pulls her closer and snuggles into her side, enjoying the warmth the blonde provides.

“God, poor Beca. I just can’t believe Chloe would do this,” Stacie says. Aubrey presses a kiss to the brunette’s temple and runs her hand through her hair gently.

“Bree?” Both girls turns their hands round at the sound. Beca’s standing in the doorway, her face still red and puffy from her earlier breakdown.

She looks tired, so tired. Not just “I haven’t slept” tired, but the kind of tired that drains your very being. The kind of tired you feel when you’re losing hope, slowly giving up. There are dark rings around her eyes and her cheeks look a little more sunken than Aubrey remembers.

When did this happen? How has she not noticed? Now she thinks about it, Aubrey remembers Chloe telling how Beca sits awake on their windowsill in the early hours of the morning. Aubrey’s seen how Beca sometimes flinches at Chloe’s touch and retreats into her bedroom. She’s listened to Beca’s cries when Chloe cancels on their plans for a date.

At the time, she’d just thought nothing of it, but now she realises that the life has slowly been draining out of her, the light in her eyes gradually dulling onto nothing.

And suddenly everything is a whole lot worse.

Aubrey springs up from the couch and pulls Beca into her arms, cradling her head against her chest. The brunette wraps her arms tightly around her friend’s middle, soft sobs escaping her lips once more.

“Oh Becs,” Aubrey whispers, pressing a soft kiss on top of the small woman’s head. Beca just clings onto her more tightly, the action desperate.

Stacie comes up behind Beca and wraps her in a hug too. A group cuddle is definitely what she needs. Aubrey kisses her girlfriend over the top of Beca’s head, glad for the support.

“What do I do, Bree?”


	59. twins (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all seem to like this little fic, huh? i wrote the third part just now, seen as you all wanted more! probably two more chapters left now!

“Hey Chloe! What are you doing here?” Stephanie greets as she leans against the doorframe. She runs a hand through her hair and shoots Chloe an easy smile.

“I came to, uh, ask you something,” Chloe starts, clasping her hands together tightly. She smiles gently and bites her lip, surprised at how nervous she is to ask Stephanie out.

“Oh, sure, do you wanna come in?” Stephanie steps back and opens the door, her hand brushing Chloe’s back as she walks in. The redhead shivers slightly at the touch, a blush immediately rushing to her cheeks.

She makes her way to the couch in the brunette’s hotel room, fiddling with the strap of her black bag anxiously. Stephanie follows her, curious as to what Chloe wants to ask her.

Chloe stares at Stephanie, unable to help herself as she rakes her eyes up and down the smaller woman’s body. Stephanie really is stunning. Unlike Beca, she’s a casual dresser; she’s in mom jeans and a loose white t-shirt, tattoos all up decorating her arms.

It’s hot and sexy and Chloe really wants to run her hands over them. Stephanie also has a really hot lip ring she wants to run her tongue over again and again. Why doesn’t Beca get a tongue ring? That would be _really_ hot. Maybe even hotter than Stephanie’s.

 _What? Why am I thinking about Beca? I’m asking Stephanie out, not her. Why would I even think of Beca? Pfft, it’s not like I’d ever ask her out is it?_ Chloe frantically tries to push her best friend from her mind, oblivious as to why she’s even thinking about her.

Stephanie raises an eyebrow as Chloe just sits there, staring at her. “You okay?” She asks after a moment, waving a hand in front of the redhead’s face. Chloe snaps out of her semi-panicked trance and looks up at Stephanie’s face.

Smiling, she nods. “Yeah, I’m good. So, uh, I came to ask you a question.” Chloe pauses and looks down at hands for a minute. She gets a sudden feeling of dread, like she really shouldn’t be doing this. Swallowing thickly, she pushes it away and smiles again. “I came to ask you out. Like, on a date,” she finishes.

“Chlo, I’d love to!” Stephanie pulls her up from the couch and wraps her arms round her tightly. Chloe can’t help but get annoyed at the brunette’s use of “Chlo”. Only one person gets to call her that; Beca, and _only_ Beca.

 _Ugh, why do I keep thinking of Beca?_ Chloe holds onto Stephanie a little more tightly and presses a kiss to her cheek, focusing on the feel of the soft skin and definitely not on the thought of Beca’s rapidly falling face as she asked her permission about Stephanie.

The two girls separate, both with big smiles on their faces. “How does tomorrow evening sound? Shall I pick you up at seven?”

“That sounds brilliant.” Stephanie leans forward to brush a strand of hair from Chloe’s face. She tenderly tucks it behind her ear and continues to lean forward. Chloe panics and presses a quick kiss to her cheek before ducking backwards.

Kissing Stephanie would feel like cheating on Beca. She doesn’t know why and she suddenly hates all the weird feelings inside her she can’t explain, but it would. And so she can’t kiss her. Not yet, anyway.

“I better be off,” Chloe says suddenly. “I promised Aubrey I’d go shopping with her,” she lies. Stephanie just smiles easily and nods, making sure to keep one hand wrapped around the redhead as they walk to the door.

Chloe finds she isn’t sad to leave.

* * *

Beca avoids Chloe for the next three days.

She hears about the “wonderful” date from Aubrey. (Of course Chloe had told the blonde every tiny detail over about three hours. Aubrey had politely endured it — she had to be there for her friend, of course — but it had been hard.)

Beca had grilled Aubrey about it as soon as the blonde had stepped through the door of her apartment. The brunette’s been spending a lot of time there since The Incident™.

“Beca, Chloe’s starting to get worried about you,” Aubrey says gently, approaching Beca from behind. The small woman is making breakfast after staying the night, curled up on the couch.

“I can’t be around her right now, Bree, you know that,” Beca protests. She turns round and wraps her arms around Aubrey, burying her head in the blonde’s chest.

Aubrey sighs and hugs Beca back, kissing the top of her head softly. It’s getting ridiculous, really. She has to watch her best friend fall apart while trying support her  _other_  best friend in her newfound love. She’s tired. So tired. But she can’t imagine what it’s like for Beca.

“I know sweetie, but she’s getting real suspicious.” Aubrey pulls away. “You need to go and talk to her.”

“No. Can’t I just keep hiding here?” Beca pouts and folds her arms stubbornly. She draws her lip between her teeth and bites down on it harshly, refusing to acknowledge the tears prickling in her eyes.

“No Becs, you can’t. You have to face her at some point,” Aubrey tells her, rubbing her thumb over the brunette’s cheekbone lovingly. “Come on honey, I’ll take you home.”

“Ugh, fine.”

* * *

 “Hey Becs, I made us some pasta.” Chloe pokes her head round the door to see her best friend curled up on her bed. She sighs as she enters the room, her heart aching as she sinks down on the bed.

“I’m not hungry,” Beca mumbles, burying her head in her pillow. She hates feeling so shitty, especially with Chloe around, but there’s nothing she can do to stop it. She wants to be happy for the redhead, she really does, but she just can’t.

“But Becs, you haven’t touched anything I’ve brought you. You _have_  to eat today,” Chloe insists, placing a hand on Beca’s shoulder. The brunette flinches and curls up into herself even more.

“I don’t want to.”

“Beca, what is wrong with you? I haven’t asked because you’re not opening up to me willingly, but you’ve been avoiding me for three days now! I know you’re spending a lot of time with Aubrey and that’s fine, but even she won’t tell me what’s going on. I know there’s something, Beca, and I know it’s about me. Why can’t you just tell me?” Chloe’s voice breaks at the end as her eyes begin to water. Tears slide slowly down her cheeks as she clasps her hands together, squeezing them tightly.

Beca’s stomach flips as she hears the sadness in her friend’s voice, and she turns round reluctantly. Guilt slashes through her as she watches Chloe cry. She hates it when Chloe cries. It’s the one thing she really can’t handle.

“Chlo... please don’t cry,” Beca starts, placing a hand on the redhead’s forearm. Despite her promise to herself that she’d stop being so touchy with Chloe, she can’t help pulling her into her arms.

She whispers soothing words as Chloe cries in her arms, rocking her gently back and forth. The redhead wraps her arms tightly around Beca’s waist and buries her head in the brunette’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender.

(Yes, Beca still uses the shampoo Chloe bought for her that one Christmas five years ago. She’s never been able use another one since.)

“I’m sorry Chlo. You know I’m not good at opening up to people. It’s just... I can’t tell you. It’s nothing bad, I promise. I just really can’t say right now. But I will tell you. Soon, maybe,” Beca says cautiously. She doesn’t want Chloe to be mad at her, but for obvious reasons, she can’t tell her what it is at the moment. No matter how much she wants to know.

“It’s okay Becs, I’m sorry I pushed you.” Chloe’s voice is laced with guilt, and it makes Beca’s heart ache, because despite all this, Chloe’s still _Chloe_. She’s still the bubbly girl Beca first fell in love with, still the generous girl that gives money to the homeless whenever she sees them. She’s still the kind-hearted girl that cooks her fancy dinners for no reason. Despite her dating Stephanie, she’s still all of that and more. She’s still _Chloe_ , and Beca could never blame her.

It’s her own fault, really.

“Oh Chloe, you have nothing to apologise for, seriously,” Beca insists, stroking a hand through Chloe’s hair comfortingly,

“Love you Becs,” the redhead mumbles against Beca’s collarbone, the movement of her lips sending a shiver down the brunette’s spine. She has to remind herself that Chloe only means it as _friends_ , and _nothing more._ Just as friends.

“I love you too,” she replies, except she means it for real.

* * *

As Chloe gets ready for her date with Stephanie, she can’t help but think of Beca. Ever since they fell asleep in each other’s arms two nights ago, she hasn’t been able to get the woman out of her mind. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her.

Sure Beca’s her best friend, but now she’s starting to have _other thoughts._ Non-platonic thoughts. And it kind of scares her.

But Chloe’s not one to panic, so she puts it down to finding Beca attractive. After all, she is dating her twin sister; there’s bound to be some kind of attraction to her best friend.

And so she pushes it from her mind and continues to brush eyeshadow onto her eyelid. She’d wanted Beca to help her get ready, but the brunette had declined with claims to plans with Aubrey.

Chloe hadn’t really thought much of it. (She had.)

She’s excited to see Stephanie. They went out for lunch yesterday, and as usual, everything went brilliantly. They haven’t kissed yet, but Chloe can tell the brunette wants to. Every time she’s made a move to, she’s been unable to help herself ducking away.

She doesn’t know what it is. (She does.)

Signing softly, Chloe adds the final touches to her lipstick and grabs her clutch. Stephanie’s meant to be taking her out to this fancy new Italian Restaurant, and she can’t wait.

After slipping on her heels, Chloe pulls on her coat and leaves the apartment.

* * *

It’s been half an hour.

Chloe’s waited and waited and _waited_. And Stephanie still hasn’t arrived.

After ten minutes she’d put it down to bad traffic. After twenty minutes she’d wondered if she’d gotten held up somewhere. But now, after thirty minutes, Chloe knows Stephanie isn’t going to be coming at all.

She’d called her six times, and left her two voicemails, but she’d had no reply. The waiters had been eyeing her for a while now, shooting her pitying looks as she stared down at her phone screen, watching the minutes flick by.

One of them had even brought her a sympathy glass of wine at one point. (She’d downed it in one gulp.) They’d told her it was on the house.

Chloe hastily brushes away her falling tears as she taps in Beca’s number and raises her phone to her ear. The line is picked up after one ring.

“She didn’t come.”


	60. boop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #60:  
> “your best friend and my best friend think we’d be really cute together and keep trying to set us up i am so sorry” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hii, so i _am_ going to be continuing my “twins” mini fic, but i just need a couple days away from it bc i’m having real trouble making the chapter flow at the moment. i’d rather not push it and let it come naturally!
> 
> this is just a short fic in the mean time, bc i don’t wanna stop writing bechloe! enjoy the fluff :)

“Stace, where the fuck are you taking me?” Beca huffs, crossing her arms stubbornly. She’s in the passenger seat of her best friends car, extremely displeased at being dragged away from her laptop in the middle of a mix.

“Nowhere,” Stacie replies, feigning innocence. She keeps her eyes trained on the road as Beca emits a low growl from beside her.

“Tell me _right now_ Stacie or I swear to god I will—“ Beca hisses, glaring vengefully at the brunette.

“Okay okay, _god_. Don’t get ya panties in a twist, Becs.” Stacie rolls her eyes and turns down the music vibrating through the car. She looks across to Beca, only to be greeted with a steely expression. “Fine. We’re going over to Aubrey’s,” she admits.

“Stacie! What the fuck? _Again?_ This is the fourth time this week!” Beca exclaims, now even more pissed off. Recently, the brunette has been dragging her round to some blonde woman’s apartment.

There’s always another girl there, Chloe. Beca thinks Chloe’s gorgeous, but has always kept herself to herself, despite being alone with the woman quite a bit.

And then it dawns on her.

“Are you trying to set me up with Chloe Beale?” She asks angrily, glaring daggers at Stacie. Her friend just blushes guiltily and refuses to make eye contact. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you! I told you I didn’t want another girlfriend after Laura!”

Beca really isn’t that mad, because _phew_ , Chloe is absolutely smoking. She can’t believe she didn’t catch on to Stacie’s — and probably Aubrey’s — plan till now.

“Oh Bec, don’t be mad! Chloe’s perfect for you. It’s been three years since Laura, and all you do is work; you need to have a bit more fun in life.”

Beca just rolls her eyes. “I’m doing just fine,” she grumbles, turning her head to look out of the window as Stacie stops at a red light.

* * *

“Follow me, Becs,” Stacie says slyly, grabbing the small brunette’s hand. Beca tries to dig her heels into the floor, but she’s so tiny and Stacie’s a fucking giant, so she just sighs and lets herself be dragged through Aubrey’s apartment.

“Dare I ask where you’re taking me?”

“Well basically,” Stacie starts, pulling her towards the kitchen. “I just need some help with something.” She opens the door to Aubrey’s pantry and stops, yanking Beca closer.

And as the brunette turns to look at her, she pushes her in. Stacie quickly shuts and locks the door behind her, ignoring Beca’s angry yelling as she bangs on the door.

Giggling to herself, Stacie leaves the kitchen in search of Aubrey; they have movies to watch.

* * *

Beca huffs angrily and whirls round, muttering death threats aimed at Stacie under her breath. The sight that greets her eyes makes her heart stop, and her breath catch in her throat.

“Chloe?”

“Hey Becs!” Chloe propels herself forward and wraps Beca up in a tight hug. She buries her nose in the brunette’s neck and inhales, swooning as lavender fills her nose.

Beca doesn’t quite know what to think. She awkwardly pats Chloe on the back as she’s squeezed even tighter in the redhead’s arms. “Uh, hey Chlo.”

“Chlo, huh?” Chloe pulls back and smirks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Beca blushes immediately and takes a step back.

“Oh, sorry, I just… Well, I—“ she starts, panicking internally. Since when does she have a nickname for Chloe? They barely know each other for fucks sake.

“Chill, I’m only messing with you. I like the nickname, and I _really_ like when you blush like that. It’s super cute.” Chloe pokes Beca on the nose and makes a little “boop” noise. She grins when Beca scrunches her nose up adorably.

“I am _not_ cute,” she insists, feigning anger. She huffs petulantly and pouts like a toddler. Chloe just releases a soft “aww” and pinches Beca’s cheek.

“You totes are!”

“Am not.”

Chloe senses Beca’s annoyance and pauses, her face falling a fraction. “Uh, sorry our friends keep trying to set us up,” she starts sheepishly, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

Beca’s eyes widen at Chloe’s apologetic tone and she reaches out her hands in an attempt to placate her. “No no, it’s fine. Uh, actually, I think you’re really pretty,” she says shyly.

She may be a total badass, but Chloe makes her insides turn to jelly.

“Well I think you’re really pretty too,” Chloe whispers, stepping closer to Beca. She leans forwards and wraps one arm around the brunette’s neck.

Beca closes her eyes and leans in, ready to kiss the redhead. But at the last moment, Chloe pulls away and taps Beca on the nose again with a soft “boop”.

“Chloe!”

“Oops,” she says, giggling.


	61. mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #61:  
> “i’m a barista and you’re a customer who comes in every day and today my friend brought you in with them, i didn’t even know we had mutual friends and WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT ISN’T ACTUALLY YOUR NAME HAVE I REALLY BEEN WRITING A NAME THAT IS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO YOURS ON YOUR CUPS FOR OVER HALF A YEAR WHY DIDN’T YOU CORRECT ME” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i know i haven’t uploaded in a few days because i had to take a few mental health days to myself. i’m working on the next chapter of “twins”, but it probably won’t be up for a few days. sorry! anyways, have this instead.

Beca’s serving a customer when Lucy walks in, her soft fiery hair swept up into a ponytail, this time clad in washed skinny jeans and a pink floral blouse.

(Beca always takes advantage of the days jeans are worn to ogle the woman’s shapely ass as subtly as possible.)

Her gaze is immediately torn away from the average-looking man she’s currently handing a cup of coffee to. She almost shoves it into his chest — she’s too busy staring, mesmerised at Lucy to focus on the man.

(It’s bad customer service, but who cares.)

Lucy’s wearing makeup, as always, but her face looks just a little more natural today, as if the layer has been smudged and rubbed throughout the day. She looks gorgeous.

Beca likes to watch Lucy. Not in a creepy way — or perhaps it is a little creepy — but she’s observant. She notices these things. She notices the way Lucy inhales the smell of her coffee deeply before taking a sip. The way she licks her finger before turning the page on her book. The way she scrunches her nose up at customers if she notices them being rude.

Beca notices everything.

There’s something about the gorgeous redhead that doesn’t quite fit. Lucy doesn’t look like a Lucy. Beca doesn’t normally pay attention to whether someone’s name suits them; after all, it is a bit of an odd thing to do.

But this, somehow feels important. It jumps out at her, nudging her, poking her, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she doubts that the woman’s name is actually Lucy.

She has no reasoning for her doubt, it’s just _there_.

Lucy walks up to the counter, a small smile already in place at the sight of her favourite barista. All she has to do is stand there for Beca to start moving swiftly around the small space, flicking switches on machines and making sure it’s perfect. Unknown to everyone except her, Lucy order isn’t on the menu.

The first time she’d come in, she’d bounced up to the counter and asked hopefully for a caramel latte, something that was not on the menu. The brunette had been too struck by her beauty to even care, and had made the drink in a daze, handing it over with wide eyes and a dazzling smile.

When Beca hands over the warm mug of coffee this time, signature smile playing on her lips, Lucy beams at her. Beca’s stomach flips and her heart soars, trying to fight that blush that starts to rise to her cheeks.

With a softly mumbled word of thanks, the redhead moves over to a table and takes a seat, pulling out her phone straight away. She sips at her latte, periodically checking her phone, clearly waiting for someone.

And then the door opens, and a tall, lanky mess of limbs runs in. The woman ties her long dark hair into a quick ponytail and scans the room. “Chloe!” She calls, spotting her company.

Beca watches, wondering who the hell “Chloe” is. Her and Stacie are friends, good friends even; they live in the same apartment building, funnily enough, and have close friendship over the years. The brunette has never heard of this “Chloe” before, so subtly watches the two women as she continues to wipe down the counter.

When Lucy stands up quickly in greeting and pulls Stacie into a tight hug, her smile wide, her eyes bright, Beca frowns. _What?_ She fumbles with mug she’s cleaning and it slips to the floor, smashing upon impact. Both Ruby and Lucy — or is it Chloe? — pull apart and turn round to stare at her, their respective eyes filling with concern.

Lucy (?) is the first by her side, leaning over the counter, drinking in the sight of the shattered mug and Beca’s startled expression. “Beca, are-are you okay?” She asks softly, quietly, aware that the brunette is shocked — at what, she doesn’t know.

“Your name isn’t Lucy?” The brunette finally splutters, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment. _How could I have gotten it so wrong? The names Lucy and Chloe are nothing alike, not in even a little bit. God, she’s going to hate me now. Stupid stupid stupid._

Beca ducks her head anxiously, training her eyes on the broken mug. Her manager will probably kill her, but she currently has worse things to worry about. She doesn’t dare look up at Chloe, fearing that the look of disgust she’s used to from other people will be present in those sparkling blue eyes.

Chloe looks mildly uncomfortable at the question, a tentative smile on her lips. “You uh, wrote Lucy on my cup once because…” the redhead trails off and frowns, appearing deep in thought. “I’m not sure actually. You did it once and then again; you didn’t even ask my name,” she explains, watching as Beca jerks her head a little and starts wringing her hands together.

Beca can’t believe how embarrassing it is to realise she’s been calling a woman — albeit a gorgeous, stunning woman — the wrong name for over six months.  _Fuck, I am so screwed,_ she thinks, still refusing to make eye contact.

“I-I’m so sorry. That’s so stupid of me,” Beca mumbles guiltily, raising her head slightly. Chloe smiles kindly and walks round behind the counter.

She reaches out and pulls Beca’s hands apart, her touch soft and careful. The brunette’s hands are clammy against the cool skin of her own. Chloe rubs small circles on the back of them, listening with mild concern as Beca’s breathing quickens.

“Becs, breathe,” she soothes, dropping her hands as she cups the small woman’s cheeks instead.

Beca looks up at her, her eyes wide and unblinking. She tries to concentrate on Chloe’s soft gaze and kind smile as she breathes deeply. Those captivating bright blue eyes come back into focus as she smiles weakly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her warm breath tickling Chloe’s wrist. The brunette just strokes her cheekbone and lets one hand drop to wrap around Beca’s small waist.

“It’s totally okay, don’t worry.” Chloe beams, and Beca’s stomach flips violently. Want pools in her stomach and her heart thumps painfully in her rib cage as she tries to fight the urge to kiss the smiling redhead in front of her.

“Can I-Can I kiss you?” She manages to stammer, her hands almost trembling with desire. Chloe’s barely nodded before she closes the distance and presses her lips to plump pink ones.

Chloe tastes of strawberries and smells of vanilla and it’s _intoxicating_. Beca feels drunk as she slips her tongue into the redhead’s mouth, unable to help the small moan that escapes her lips.

She spins Chloe round and pushes her back against the counter, bringing her hands up to wrap around the redhead’s neck. Chloe smiles into the kiss as Beca nips at her bottom lip.

They pull apart when the need for oxygen becomes too great to ignore. Beca smiles tentatively at the woman before her, her chest rising quickly as she tries to wrap her head around what just happened.

Stacie just watches from the other side of the counter, grinning widely. Who would have thought this would happen?


	62. escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #62:  
> “i’m hiding in the bathroom of a restaurant from an awful tinder date and you’re in a similar situation because a guy at the bar won’t stop hitting on you and now we’re planning an epic escape together even though we only met ten minutes ago” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okaY this one is short i’m sorry but i think the fact this is my second update today makes up for it. right?
> 
>  
> 
> _also can i just say how grateful i am to every single person who leaves a comment. seriously, you guys make my days better. i love hearing your feedback! thank you so much._

Beca’s head snaps up from her reflection in the mirror as the bathroom door swings open. A woman rushes in, annoyance dancing brightly in her eyes. 

She’s _gorgeous_ , and the lacy red dress she’s wearing does wonders on her body, accentuating her soft curves. The brunette freezes in her act of reapplying lipstick for a second as she drinks in fiery red hair falling in gentle curls down to her shoulders, mesmerising blue eyes and glossy pink lips.

“Hi! Are you okay?” A soft, soothing voice asks, and Beca briefly wonders if she’s died and gone to heaven, but then a worried hand lands on her forearm and jerks her out of her trance. She snaps her head up to look at the woman beside her, swallowing nervously as her eyes dart down to where the woman’s tan hand is still placed on her pale arm.

Her skin burns under the touch, her body suddenly hyper sensitive. She can almost hear her heartbeat; it’s significantly faster than it was before.

Beca just nods firmly, unable to form words as she drowns in bright cerulean orbs. So she’s _definitely_ fucked, which goes against just about everything she stands for. Never crush on a straight woman is her number one rule, and she’s already broken it.

She knows how it ends. She’s read about it in books, watched it in movies. It definitely won’t end well.

After another beat of silence, the woman removes her hand from Beca’s arm, and the brunette feels the loss keenly. The touch had felt like something akin to home, or what home should feel like.

(Beca isn’t really sure, since she’s had a messed up family life since she was fifteen.)

When the woman moves to pull out a tube of lipstick from her bag, Beca suddenly feels her voice return to her, and she thinks she ought to say something. “I’m Beca,” she says cautiously, her words hanging in the air for a moment before the stunning woman turns towards her.

“Chloe.” Instead of shaking her hand, like Beca’s expecting — or maybe hoping — Chloe turns and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. Arms wrap around Beca’s slim waist, reaching up to press against her back.

Beca’s breath catches in her throat, her sudden closeness to Chloe throwing her off guard. The redhead smells of strawberries and vanilla and Beca thinks she might be drowning. She doesn’t even want to come up for air.

Chloe pulls away after a few moments, a wide smile stretched across her lips. “So, what brings you here,” she asks flirtatiously, throwing in a wink for good measure. Beca can’t help the pink that settles on her cheeks, and she ducks her head slightly.

“I was here for a drink with a friend, but they had to cancel so I stayed alone. But now I’m hiding from a man at the bar. He won’t leave me alone,” the brunette explains, turning back to the mirror in the hope her red cheeks won’t be as obvious.

Beca thinks Chloe’s seen though, so she’s screwed. 

“It seems we’re both hiding,” Chloe comments, and after receiving a questioning eyebrow raise, she elaborates. “A failed tinder date. I don’t know how to get away from him.”

(She’d swiped right on the man — she’d thought he was handsome — and his description claimed he liked the same things as her. It turns out he’s nothing at all like what he said he was. Fucking tinder.)

Beca giggles then, but immediately clamps her mouth shut. Did she actually just _giggle?_ She’s twenty-five, not five for fucks sake.

Chloe smiles as she finishes applying pink lip gloss to her plump lips. Beca swallows and drags her gaze away from them, ignoring the desire that pools in her stomach.

“Want to escape together?” Chloe asks suddenly, turning to face the small brunette with wide, hopeful eyes and a hint of a smile.

“Sure,” Beca replies easily, grabbing hold of Chloe’s outstretched hand. And then she‘s being pulled out of the door, her brain short-circuiting as the grip on her hand tightens.

She’s drowning, and she doesn’t even care.


	63. pet shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #63:  
> i work at a pet shop and everyday you come in on your way to work and pet every single animal here you are the purest soul™ i’m so in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three updates in less than twenty four hours? what?! i know, i know, i’m making up for my absence!
> 
> i was _so_ close to writing a sex scene but i chickened out at the last minute. still a little hot and heavy though ;)

**i.**

The first time she comes in, it’s eight o’clock in the morning, and the shop has _just_ opened. Beca’s still half asleep, her vision still blurry with tiredness. Her hair is thrown up in a mess of a bun, odd strands of hair poking out randomly. She just so decided to go bare-faced today — it wasn’t really a decision, she just didn’t have time — which she now _really_ regrets.

Because this woman is _beautiful_ , and she currently looks like she belongs in the trash.

Beca tries to control her Gay Feelings™ as the woman approaches the till. She can’t stop her hands from dropping to the hem of her plaid shirt to fiddle with it anxiously.

The woman’s soft fiery hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her make up is done to perfection. She’s dressed in black slacks and a floral blouse — she’s clearly headed off to work.

Beca wonders why she stopped at the pet shop, of all places. “Uh hi, h-how may I help you?” Her voice is shaky, despite how sleep-thickened it sounds, and she hopes the gorgeous redhead doesn’t notice.

“Hi! Is it okay if I pet the animals?” Beca immediately feels desire grow in the pit of her stomach, because this woman’s voice is _everything_. It’s soft and melodic and Beca can’t help it when her mind jumps to sex.

She’s tired, okay?

“Uh, sure,” she replies, her cheeks heating up involuntarily. She hopes it’s not noticeable, but considering she can feel the heat on her face without even touching it, she realises it probably is.

**ii.**

Beca finds out her name the next day: Chloe Beale. The redhead bursts through the doors at eight o’clock again, her eyes already bright with excitement. Beca really doesn’t know what there is to be excited about, but Chloe’s excitement makes her stomach flip and her heart soar, so she’s not complaining.

The brunette watches with fascination as Chloe makes her way round the store, patiently saying hello to _every single animal_. She waves through the glass and coos through the cages, her eyes dancing. A beaming smile takes up residence on her lips, and it doesn’t leave.

Although she doesn’t like to admit it, Beca thinks it’s simply adorable. Not many people — i.e. no one — would wake up at the ass crack of dawn just to get to the pet shop before work. Let alone spend an hour petting every single animal before leaving.

Beca tries not to be creepy and keep staring, but Chloe is simply captivating, it’s not like she has much else to do.

At nine o’clock, Chloe finishes her round of the pet shop and makes her way towards the till. Beca’s heartbeat quickens because she looks even worse than yesterday — she’d spent the evening drinking (which she now recognises was a bad decision).

Chloe just beams as she approaches, her pearly white teeth glinting in the light. Beca hates herself for crushing on the redhead, because she knows it won’t end well.

Falling for straight people never does.

Beca tries to say something, tries to ask how she can help, but the words her stuck in her throat. She’s having a major Gay Panic™. Chloe doesn’t really seem to mind that Beca’s standing there like a mute fool. She just grins and takes it upon herself to initiate the conversation.

**iii.**

“So long have you worked here?”

Beca stares across at Chloe, her heart fluttering. The redhead has come in every single day for two weeks now, spending an hour with the animals before shooting a quick smile at Beca and rushing from the shop.

They don’t always talk; a lot of the time Chloe seems to be rushing too much to stop. But at the weekends, Chloe stays for an extra half an hour just to talk to her.

It makes Beca’s stomach flip.

“Uh, about a year now, maybe,” she replies, fiddling with hem of her shirt. Chloe beams at her, the smile exuding warmth and happiness. It’s soothing.

“Awesome! I’d love to work in a pet shop, but I have to go and teach little kids instead!” There’s a hint of sadness tinging her voice, but it’s immediately replaced by joy at the mention of children.

Beca has spent many a day — and night — wondering what Chloe’s job is. And now she knows she’s a teacher, she’s suddenly even more attractive.

A gorgeous woman that’s good with kids? Yes please.

“That’s better than working here. It stinks,” Beca jokes, scrunching her nose up in disgust. Chloe laughs softly and the brunette can’t help but grin. “What do you teach?”

“French!”

Beca’s heart skips a beat as a rush of arousal shoots through her body. _Fuck_. She can’t fight the images of a naked Chloe that float into her brain, nails dragging down her back as she whispers dirty foreign words into her ear.

“Becs? You okay?” Chloe waves a hand in front of Beca’s face, snapping the brunette out of her less-than-innocent day dream.

“Wh-What? Yes I’m fine,” she says hurriedly, clearing her throat. She blushes and ducks her head, embarrassed at her own thoughts. “So, um, what French can you speak?”

“I’m a teacher, Becs. I’m fluent.” The words are accompanied with a flirty wink, and Beca swoons.

**iv.**

Chloe doesn’t come in on Sunday. Or on Monday. Or Tuesday. In fact, she doesn’t come in for a week.

By Friday, Beca’s freaking out. Chloe comes in _every day_. Her not coming in is like… like it not raining in England. Impossible. The bubbly redhead has been in every day for two months now. _Two whole months._

And then not at all.

What if Chloe’s hurt? Or even dead? Beca can’t just stand there and serve customers every day like she’s fine. She can’t just sit at home in her tiny apartment and watch TV like she’s not internally panicking.

She has to do something.

Beca’s not really sure she’s allowed to look up customer information and use it to track them down, but she’s past the point of caring. She pulls up Chloe’s address — she’d registered for a members card the time she bought two new hamsters — and quickly jots it down on her arm.

She struggles through the remaining two hours of her shift, impatiently serving customers as the minutes tick by. She’s pretty sure she’s being a bit rude, but she doesn’t give a flying fuck at this point.

As soon as the clock strikes five, Beca runs from the shop and jumps into her car, punching Chloe’s address into her SatNav as she steps on the gas.

It takes her forty agonising minutes of driving and sitting in rush hour traffic for her to reach Chloe’s apartment building. She parks haphazardly in the car park and rushes to the door, slamming her hand on the button that calls up to the apartment.

She waits and waits, anxiety swirling in a tornado in her stomach. Her heart crashes painfully against her ribcage as she realises there’s no one there.

Shakily running a hand through her hair, Beca drops down onto the steps. What if Chloe’s not okay? Where is she? There’s a chance she’s still at school, but Beca remembers Chloe telling her that she prefers to leave straight away and catch up on marking at home.

So she should be back by now. Shit.

Beca feels tears of panic well up in her eyes as she draws her knees to her chest. She wraps her arms around them and hugs tightly, trying to breathe deeply. She buries her head in her knees and cries, the tears soaking through her jeans.

But then there are soft hand on her shoulders, and she’s being pulled into a warm, comforting embrace. Beca looks up through blurry eyes to see Chloe, concern etched onto her face.

“Chloe?” She asks, hiccuping. The redhead just nods and rubs her back soothingly. “I thought you were dead!” She cries, her arm shooting out to hit Chloe’s shoulder.

“Shh Becs, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m alive,” she coos, wrapping her arms tightly around the brunette as a head is buried into her neck.

Slowly Beca’s sobs slow to irregular gulps of air, and she looks up Chloe. “Why didn’t you come? I was so worried. A week, Chlo, a whole week.”

Chloe’s cheeks heat up and she ducks her head guiltily. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her arm still wrapped around Beca’s waist. “I was too scared.”

“Of what?”

“You.”

“Me?” Beca recoils backwards, drawing into herself and away from Chloe. She’s a tiny, socially-awkward woman, not a scary monster. Or is she?

“Yes, but-but not like actually scared. I was scared to, uh, ask you something,” Chloe confesses, her voice quiet. She doesn’t dare meet Beca’s confused gaze.

“Ask me what?” The brunette stares down at her hands, trying to work out what the hell Chloe means. She never thought of herself as a scary person to approach, but apparently so.

Maybe her prickly personality finally put Chloe off. The thought makes her sad, and she swallows thickly.

“Uh, ask you on a date.”

**v.**

“Hey!” Chloe bursts through the doors of the pet shop, exactly on time. Beca automatically grins and rushes towards her, arms outstretched.

They collide, chests pressing together as they embrace. Beca inhales deeply as the scent of Chloe’s fruity perfume surrounds her. “I missed you,” Beca mumbles into the redhead’s neck.

“It’s only been a day,” Chloe teases, pulling away from the small brunette. Beca pouts, feigning hurt. Chloe giggles and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to the woman’s forehead.

“That’s all you’re giving me? I don’t think so.” Beca grabs the lapels of Chloe’s jacket and slams their lips together, releasing a muffled moan almost immediately.

Chloe kisses back enthusiastically, running her tongue over Beca’s bottom lip. She pushes herself into the brunette, causing her to stumble back into the counter.

Chloe runs her hands down Beca’s sides, bringing them down to start unbuttoning her shirt.

Beca moans and arches into Chloe, latching onto her neck. She bites down hard, wanting nothing more than to leave a mark. She knows they’re not horny teenagers, but they’re definitely horny, and Chloe’s reaction certainly isn’t negative.

The redhead’s hands still as she throws her head back and moans loudly. Beca feels arousal flood through her, dampening her panties embarrassingly.

“Becky! What did I tell you about sex on the counters!”

The two women pull apart rapidly, chests rising and falling rapidly as they stare at each other. Their respective cheeks are red, and their lips kiss-swollen.

“Come on,” Beca breathes, grabbing Chloe’s hand to drag her to the back of the store. There’s a perfectly good store cupboard they can put to excellent use.

Chloe just gasps excitedly and follows, already slipping her hand up Beca’s shirt to palm her boobs.


	64. ice cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #64:  
> you had this giant ass ice cream but you were so excited that you dropped it and i’ve never seen a sadder person in my life please let me buy you a new one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another one? yes, i’m on a roll.

Chloe’s minding her own business, when a flash of black catches her eye. She raises her head from her sketchbook — she’s practising her landscape drawings for her art class — and watches from across the park as Beca Mitchell hurries to the ice cream van.

The small brunette is dressed in a thick hoodie despite the heat, her arms wrapped around her waist. Headphones are hanging round her neck, the wire trailing down to her phone shoved in her pocket. 

Chloe’s never spoken to Beca alone before — she’s too nervous to — so she pines in silence from across various classrooms. It’s hard, but she deals with it, because it’s not like Beca would want to talk to her after all she’s done.

Beca’s something of a social outcast at their school, the one everyone bullies. Chloe doesn’t know what it is. She wonders if it’s the thick glasses or the way she always hunches her shoulders, curling in on herself.

And she hates to think about it, but Chloe used to join in. Never to the extent some of the boys do, but she made a few mean comments here and there. It’s one of her biggest regrets, and she wishes she could take it back, but she can’t.

It keeps her up at night sometimes, tossing and turning in her bed as she wonders if Beca hates her. It’s been a while since she’s done it; she completely stopped as soon as she developed a crush on the tiny brunette.

Chloe knows that nothing she does or says can make up for her terrible actions all those months ago, but she wants to attempt right her wrongs somehow.

All the redhead wants to do is talk to Beca, become friends with her, but she just doesn’t know how. She really doesn’t think she’d be able to approach the girl knowing that she’s potentially hated.

Since she stopped teasing Beca, her friends kind of pushed her out a bit. They started doing things without her, claiming she “just didn’t know how to have fun”.

Chloe’s fine with it, really. They’re all jerks anyways.

She watches discreetly as Beca hands over her money and is in turn rewarded with an ice cream. A huge ice cream. It has two scoops, a flake, sprinkles and sauce, and makes Chloe’s mouth water — she doesn’t even eat ice cream that much. The brunette thanks the man with a blinding smile, her dark eyes creased with happiness. A long lick is taken, and Chloe can’t help the loving that spreads across her lips at the sight of Beca’s joy.

But then Chloe mouth is falling open in shock as a boy runs past, knocking into Beca. The ice cream falls out of her hand, landing on the pavement with a splat. Even from afar she sees tears well up in hooded blue eyes, and her stomach twists.

She’s moving forwards before she can think about what she’s doing, desperate to make things right. Tears slide down Beca’s cheeks and she wipes the skin quickly, already walking away, head bowed down.

Chloe runs after her, determined to make things right. She can’t fix what she did to Beca, but she can try do at least something. “Beca!” she calls, finally catching up with the brunette. The small girl spins round in surprise, her pale cheeks wet with falling tears.

“C-Chloe?” she asks, eyes wide with confusion. Her hands fall from around her waist, hanging awkwardly by her sides as she swallows thickly. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Can I buy you another ice cream? Please?” Chloe says in lieu of a response. Beca blinks slowly, clearly shocked at the softly spoken offer. She frowns immediately, her mind jumping to the possibility that this is all just a big joke to humiliate her. 

“No no, it’s fine, it isn’t a big deal,” the brunette mumbles quickly, tears welling up in her eyes once more. She fiddles with the strings on her hoodie, tugging at them anxiously as she regards the gorgeous girl before her.

“I’d like to buy you one,” Chloe repeats, placing a comforting head on Beca’s forearm. The brunette flinches at the touch and backs away, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment. Chloe just offers a warm smile when nervous blue eyes connect with her own icy ones. “Please?”

Beca nods jerkily and follows Chloe back to the ice cream van. The redhead reorders the ice cream Beca had before and pays, tipping the man generously. Beca watches in awe, unable to believe what’s going on.

Chloe turns and holds it out for her to take, a kind smile on her lips. Slowly, the brunette reaches out to take it, almost as if she’s expecting it to be whipped away any second as a cruel joke.

“Thank you so much,” she says softly, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Why did you buy that for me? I mean, you—you’re popular and beautiful and I’m just… me.” Beca stares down at her ice cream, too embarrassed at her question to make eye contact with Chloe. She takes a tentative lick of her ice cream, suppressing the immediate smile that threatens to spread across her lips.

Chloe watches fondly, her stomach flipping as she falls even more in love with the shy girl before her. “Because I wanted to,” she says simply. “And I think you’re beautiful too.”

Beca’s head snaps up at that, her eyes wide and surprised at the words. She almost chokes on her own breath. “Y-You do?”

“Of course I do,” Chloe replies easily, beaming. She’s internally freaking out, desperately conscious that she needs to apologise for teasing Beca. Even if it’s been a long time. She takes a deep breath. “Beca, I just wanted to apologise for what I said all those months ago. I regret it so much, and if I could take it back, I would. You don’t deserve to be bullied, you really don’t. I just… I’m sorry I played a part in it a few times. It was very wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

Beca’s eyes are glistening by the time Chloe’s done, and for a moment she’s worried that she’s upset the brunette. But then Beca is smiling widely and she lets out a breath of relief.

“No one has ever apologised before, so thank you,” Beca says sincerely, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Chloe can’t help but smile, because although she can’t make up for her actions, she‘s actually talking to Beca. And hopefully now she can show the brunette just how sorry she is.


	65. monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #65:  
> chloe: ahh!  
> beca: *without looking up* what, see a mirror?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i have a serious problem now. but it’s good for y’all so i won’t complain that i cAnNoT STOP WRITING
> 
> this one’s a little shorter because i wrote it quickly but enjoy nevertheless!

Beca and Chloe are sat together in the living room after dinner, curled up together on the touch in front of the TV. Some boring sports programme is on, something only Beca is bothered in watching. _“It’ll be fun, Chlo”_ she said. _“It’ll be interesting”,_ she said.

Instead she’s watching big men tackle each other savagely.

So Chloe’s really, _really_ bored, and maybe even a little horny. Beca’s ignoring her though, in favour of watching some overenthusiastic — and probably gay — man scream over sports.

Determined to get a reaction, the redhead subtly places a hand on Beca’s thigh and presses herself a little closer into the brunette’s arms, stroking the clothed skin slowly. In response, Beca just rolls her eyes and pushes the tan hand off without looking up.

Sighing softly, Chloe leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of Beca’s mouth, her hot breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. Despite the shiver of arousal that jolts through her girlfriend, she’s pushed away with the mumbled excuse that she’s blocking her view.

She replies with _“bitch I_ am _the view!”_ but gives up anyway. Clearly Beca cares too much about some stupid sports programme to talk to her. Pouting, she pulls away from the brunette and huddles into the other corner of the couch.

She tries watching the TV, she really does, but she just can’t. It’s too rough for her liking. She prefers nature programmes, or cooking ones. Not some terrifying sport in which everyone gets injured.

It’s as she looks up that she sees it. The massive brown body and long hairy legs. “Aaah!” she screams, shrinking into the corner of the couch, blue eyes widening in alarm.

“What, see a mirror?” Beca responds dryly, not bothering to look up from the game. Chloe isn’t even sure what sport it is. She cowers into the couch, shaking slightly, covering her eyes with her hand.

“B-Becs,” she whispers fearfully, silently begging her girlfriend to look up from the TV for one goddamn second.

“What?”

“L-Look,” she says, pointing vaguely into the corner of the room, not daring to look properly. Rolling her eyes, Bca tears her eyes away from the screen to look at what Chloe’s talking about.

She’s more than aware that her girlfriend is just vying for attention, but the game is pretty boring anyway so she supposes there’s no harm in humouring her just this once.

But as she raises her eyes, she too lets out a scream. “Shit!” Her whole body leaps off the couch and she dives into Chloe’s arms to bury her head in her girlfriend’s shoulder, trembling with fright. “Get it out!”

“Fuck no! You do it!” Chloe whispers firmly, wrapping her arms tightly around the shaking brunette. She tries to soothe her as best she can with her own trembling hands.

“No! I’m not going anywhere near that ghastly thing!” Beca snaps, shifting her body so she’s fully on Chloe’s lap, wrapping her arms and legs round her like a koala. She keeps her head in the redhead’s chest, knowing that she’ll be somewhat protected.

“Beca…” Chloe says suddenly, her voice shaky. She trails off in fright, unknowingly tightening her hold on the small brunette.

“What?”

“It’s moving. It’s coming for us!” They both scream loudly as they fearfully glance across the room at the hairy monster.

“Call one of the Bellas!”

“I don’t think anyone’s in the house!” Chloe yells, her limbs shaking. The two women are pressed as tightly together as they’ve ever been, clinging onto each other for dear life.

“I think Jessica’s here! Or Ashley. I don’t—“ Beca’s cut off as Chloe screams again, the high-pitched sound piercing her ears.

Footsteps coming running down the stares to reveal Jessica, standing in the doorway looking a little fearful. “Is everything okay? I first thought your screaming was just… other stuff, but uh, I guess it’s not.”

Beca smirks at that, because Chloe really is a screamer, but she immediately sobers when the redhead sobs into her shoulder.

“Uh, Jess, please take the monster away,” Chloe whispers. Jessica takes in the sight of the two women, wrapped around each other in a ball on the couch. Are those tears?

Now worried, the other Bella moves forward to see the supposed monster. She lets out a small chuckle at the sight, fangirling internally at just how cute the couple are being. “Guys, it’s just a spider,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“ _Just a spider?!_ ” Beca screeches, tears running down her cheeks as she turns to face their friend. “Take it away!”

Jessica walks across the room and bends down, letting the spider crawl her his hands, smiling at the way the two women visibly relax.

“It’s gone,” she announces once she’s thrown it out of the window.

“Thank you Jess,” Chloe mumbles gratefully, fearfully daring to peek up from her safe place tucked behind her girlfriend. She lets out a breath of relief when she sees the spider-free room.

“No problem,” Jessica says, grinning. As she’s leaving, she turns back to look at them. “You too are so cute.” And then she leaves.

Beca and Chloe both blush. “I’m so glad we’re okay,” the brunette says, placing a shaky kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“Anytime,” the redhead replies easily as they snuggle into each other, revelling in the warmth of their embrace, the TV forgotten.


	66. fling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #66:  
> “i consider this more than just a fling but i don’t think you do and now you’re saying you want it to stop and i don’t know what you mean” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ll stop i’ll stop... maybe. i have to go write an essay now though. and not get distracted.

Chloe rolls over onto her back, chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath. Beca really had her begging for it, and she _loved_ every minute. She glances to the side at the small brunette, unable to help the soft smile that spreads across her lips. Beca’s usually pale skin is flushed red with exhaustion, her hair fanned out messily over her shoulders.

Chloe loves Beca like this. Post-sex Beca is one of her favourites. The usually stand-offish girl is cuddly and sleepy, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Chloe’s arms and sleep the night away.

Chloe’s more than happy to hold Beca close until the sun rises, bringing with it a pained sense of loss. She hates watching the brunette slip out of her bed and creep back to her room before the rest of The Bellas wake up. Chloe hates it, but it’s what Beca wants, so she says nothing.

They’ve been doing this (whatever _this_ is) for eight months now. They haven’t talked about it, haven’t taken it public. They didn’t talk about it the first time, or the time after that, or the time after that. After the fifth time, they’d realised they couldn’t keep pretending they’d “accidentally” fallen into bed with each other. And so a quickly mumbled agreement was made.

Chloe dares to call it a relationship in her head. Away from prying eyes, they act like a couple — watching movies together, going on dates that they pretend aren’t dates, having sex, cuddling; everything couples do.

But then Beca leaves and Chloe’s heart cracks just a little bit more.

Chloe likes to consider it a relationship, albeit a secret one, but a relationship nonetheless. The thought makes her feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy and she pretends that beca feels the same way. She tries not to remember how it feels when Beca leaves her arms as she’s lying in bed, dreaming.

Being with Beca is more than she ever hoped for; she’s loved the small brunette for years now, and had been forced to hide her feelings until that one drunken hookup. Chloe had been surprised Beca was willing to continue them. It isn’t dating, but it’s something.

Chloe can’t keep the smile off her face as her body begins to cool, and her breathing evens out. It’s then that Beca turns her head towards her, eyebrows pulled down into a frown. She stares for Chloe while, an unreadable expression present in those mysterious blue eyes. It’s when Beca pulls her bottom lip between her teeth that the redhead begins to worry.

Beca never hides her feelings from Chloe anymore, so when she does, it means something is wrong. Very wrong. Beca’s walls have been pulled down and smashed over the years, only shooting back up when she doesn’t know quite what to say.

“Chlo, this little fling… it has to stop,” the brunette says suddenly, the words slicing through the silence like a blade. She turns eyes back up to the ceiling, too afraid to make eye contact with the gorgeous woman beside her.

Chloe’s rosy skin pales immediately, and her chest constricts. Suddenly her heart is pounding in her chest, her ribcage beats away from breaking. The words sink in all too quickly, and the shock that washes over her is like an icy bucket of water, snapping her back to reality.

“Fling?!” she chokes out finally, somehow finding her voice. “You think this is some… fling?! I love you, oh my god, I _love you_  and you don’t even consider this a serious relationship..?” Chloe’s voice cracks, tears welling up in her eyes. They begin to slide down her cheeks and drip down her neck as she curls in on herself.

Her heart is breaking in her chest, physically tearing in two as she stares, blurry-eyed at the side of Beca’s head. God, if she thought she was heartbroken before, she‘s most certainly dying now.

“You—what? You love me?” Beca splutters, shock evident in her voice. She pulls the comforter over her naked body as she turns towards Chloe, her eyes wide. The redhead is staring at her, tears streaming down her cheeks like a waterfall.

“Of course I love you! How could I not?” Chloe replies, her voice raising to a near shout. She feels hurt, betrayed and rejected; everything she’s tried to bury and push down over the years. Beca makes her happy, helps her love herself, makes her feel loved. But now? Now she just isn’t sure.

She doesn’t know what to feel anymore.

“I… I thought you didn’t love me,” Beca confesses, hugging her knees to her chest. She looks small, smaller than she’s ever looked before, looking up at Chloe with wide eyes and a slightly quivering lower lip.

“What? Of course I do! Did you really think I didn’t?” Chloe feels mildly affronted that the brunette never realised, but she knows she has a tendency to be a little clueless at times too, so she understands.

“Well we’ve never talked about whatever this is,” the small woman points out, gesturing at their bodies with her hand. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“Oh Becs.” Chloe slides forward on the bed and cups Beca’s cheeks in her hands, smiling lovingly at her. “I love you so much,” she whispers, placing a delicate kiss on her nose.

“I love you too.”


	67. less loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #67:  
> could you write a fic based on this video please? [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mb3tkGLqUFg] — @ladygaybeale on tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes yes it’s another one!

“Beca, wait,” Chloe says, reaching out to grasp her friend’s wrist as she comes to a stop in front of the lake. The sun is shining softly, reflecting off the glistening water to create a pale yellow glow. It’s magical, but it’s the last thing on either girls’ mind right now.

“How could she not tell me, Chlo? Her and my dad, all that time. While mom was still…” Beca trails off as a sob escapes her lips. Her hand shoots to her mouth to try and suppress it, not wanting to break down in front of Chloe. She’s meant to be the strong one, the one that comforts Chloe when she’s had a bad day, not the other way round. “How am I supposed to look at her?” She whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek as she stares into Chloe’s eyes.

The redhead’s heart aches as she takes Beca’s hands in hers, rubbing gentle circles on her palms as the brunette fights tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, not knowing what else to say. If they were at home, back at their apartment, she’d pull the girl into her arms and hold her as she cried. But now, in such a foreign place, she doesn’t quite know what to do.

Beca sighs softly and pulls away, turning her back to walk further to the shoreline. She pokes the toe of her sneaker into the water, watching blankly as the canvas dampens. She folds her arms across her chest and looks out into the horizon, the sun drying the tears now rolling down her cheeks. “I always thought I’d track my dad down and he’d be some kind of deadbeat, y’know? But somehow this… this is worse.”

Chloe stares at Beca, her heart aching painfully. The image of Beca’s shocked expression when that front door opened will forever be seared into her mind, the moment the brunette’s face fell playing over and over. It hurts to see the girl she loves in so much pain. All she wants to do is hold her tightly and kiss it away.

Swallowing thickly, she steps towards the brunette, coming to stand next to her. She doesn’t touch her, doesn’t look at her. She just stares out across the lake and waits for Beca to continue. “He’s already a dad, just not to me.” Beca laughs humorlessly as tears well up in her eyes once more.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Becs,” Chloe assures softly, still unsure if she should reach out to comfort the girl or not. She opts for stepping closer instead, so their shoulders brush together gently.

“I just can’t believe how stupid I am. She actually had to tell me. I didn’t even see it at the time. All those times he was with her, and I believed his lies.” Beca turns to Chloe, her bottom lip trembling as tears stream down her cheeks. She digs her nails into her palms, desperate to feel something other than the overwhelming pain in her chest.

“You were ten, Beca. You can’t blame yourself for not realising that your dad was with Sh-her, the whole time.” Chloe turns to Beca and carefully uncurls her hands, smoothing her thumbs over the small crescents carved into the soft skin. “None of this is your fault,” she soothes, running her hands up the brunette’s arms so they come to rest on her shoulders.

“You actually have a dad, though,” Beca grumbles, looking down.

Chloe barks a laugh, the empty sound filling the silence. “I wish I didn’t know him,” she says, staring into Beca’s eyes when she raises her head. “He always leaves when I need him, and then he just shows up again when he needs something.” She remembers all the times her dad has called her, asking for countless favours, but never returning them when she needs it the most.

“Is this what family feels like? People who lie to you, people who leave you?” Beca’s voice sounds so broken and Chloe’s heart clenches painfully in her chest. She moves her hands up to the brunette’s neck, her touch soft and soothing.

“No no, baby, no,” she whispers, leaning forward to rest her forehead against Beca’s. Her warm breath ghosts over pale lips, sending a small shiver down the brunette’s spine. Chloe lets her eyes flutter shut as she revels in the momentary peacefulness.  
“Someday you are going to meet people who treat you the way you deserve, I promise,” she says, opening her eyes.

She caresses Beca’s cheek softly with her thumb, allowing herself to smile softly. “I’m running out of relatives to give a shit about me,” the brunette says with a small shrug of her shoulders. Chloe knows that despite the careless facade, Beca’s more hurt than she’d like her to believe.

“Oh baby, you don’t need family. You have me, you have the other Bellas. We all love you so much, Becs. Not having a good dad doesn’t make you any less loved. Aubrey rarely sees her dad, but is she hated?” Beca shakes her head in agreement and tilts her head to the side so it’s resting in Chloe’s palm. Her heart fills with love at the redhead’s words. She can’t believe how brilliant she is. She always knows just what to say.

“D’you think I’m better off without him?” She asks, turning round in Chloe’s arms so she’s pressed against the girl’s front. She ignores how well their bodies fit together, how nice it is to have Chloe’s breasts pressed against her back.

Beca tips her head back and lets it rest on Chloe’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth of the older girl’s touch. “I don’t know,” the redhead says honestly. “But you don’t need him.” Chloe presses a soft kiss to Beca’s cheek as she reaches round and tangles their fingers together.

They both let out contented sighs as they stare out across the lake, finding peace in each others’ presences.


	68. the letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #68:  
> “congratulations! your dream just came true! let me give you a celebratory hug. oh… you’re warm” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is horribly short i’m sorry

Beca’s been dreading the day Chloe receives The Letter™ for weeks now, knowing that as soon as it slips through the letterbox, she’s fucked. That letter is going to break her heart, she just knows it.

It’s the letter that’s going to determine whether Chloe’s gotten into vet school or not. Beca knows she’ll be accepted, because she’s _Chloe_ , an amazing girl that’s smart and funny and fascinating.

They’re lying on Beca’s bed when the post is delivered. Chloe’s head immediately snaps up from the brunette’s chest, her heartbeat quickening in anticipation. She exchanges a hopeful glance with her best friend and jumps off the bed, yanking Beca with her.

The brunette follows reluctantly as Chloe flies down the stairs, already squealing with excitement. With trembling hands, the redhead picks up the letter and turns it over in her hands. The envelope stares up at them tauntingly, the stark white contrasting brilliantly with Chloe’s tan hand.

Beca grips onto the other girl’s arm for support, hoping she doesn’t realise quite how tightly she’s squeezing. If Chloe asks, she’ll blame it on sympathy nerves.

Chloe glances at her, her expression one of both apprehension and excitement. Beca smiles weakly in support, her heartbeat in her throat as she watches.

God, this is going to hurt.

While Beca desperately (and selfishly) hopes that the letter says Chloe hasn’t been accepted, she really does want the absolute best for the girl she loves. She’s loved Chloe for years now, ever since they met at that activities fair. Beca’s more than certain Chloe doesn’t feel the same way — it’s been five years — so she’s kept her feelings hidden all this time.

If the letter is one of acceptance, it means Chloe will be moving away from their apartment, leaving her to go to Atlanta to follow her dreams. And obviously that’s all Beca has ever wanted for her. It doesn’t matter how she feels. It’s really not important.

Beca stayed in the city _just_ for Chloe. She chose to work from home most days so she didn’t have to move to LA. Theo had been against it, but she had pushed and pushed _just_ for Chloe.

And now Chloe’s probably leaving.

Beca hates that she doesn’t want her to go, because it’s oh so selfish, and she knows the redhead has wanted this since she was a little girl. Who is she to stop her? 

“Well what are you waiting for? Open it,” Beca prompts, trying to swallow back the lump in her throat. She can feel herself breaking, her heart splitting in two where she stands. She just knows it’ll be a letter of acceptance; it’s Chloe, of course it will.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the redhead slides her thumb under the flap and pulls out the letter. Her hands tremble as she opens up the piece of paper, eyes scanning over the typed words.

As soon as Chloe’s face lights up, excitement dancing in her eyes, part of Beca dies. The redhead turns to her, tears of joy pricking at the corners of her hypnotising eyes, a blinding smile stretched across her lips. She looks so happy that Beca can’t help but grin back, overcome with sudden happiness for her friend.

The brunette turns to wrap her arms around Chloe, knowing it may be one of the last times she’s able to. Who knows who Chloe will meet in Atlanta? Probably some cute, compassionate guy with a flashy smile and lots of money to entice her. Her smile alone could make a nation fall for her.

Beca thinks she’ll probably be forgotten; Chloe will be too busy saving animals lives to care about her anymore. Perhaps one day she’ll be able to make peace with it, but now? Now she just wants to wrap herself up in her best friend’s embrace and sear the moment into her memory forever.

Beca breathes in Chloe’s warm scent, all vanilla and sunshine, and she feels a tear roll down her cheek. The redhead is so soft and cuddly she just can’t believe she potentially won’t get moments like this again. Ever.

Finally, after long moments in each others’ arms, Chloe pulls away and smiles, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s really happening,” she whispers, squeezing Beca’s hands tightly in her own.

“It is,” is the brunette’s broken reply. She offers a smile she hopes comes across as somewhat happy, and if Chloe notices the hurt etched into her face, she doesn’t say anything.

And when Chloe turns away from her to grab her phone and call Aubrey, Beca breaks.


	69. reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #69:  
> when parting, beca and chloe agree to meet at a certain place at a certain time in a certain number of years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all really hated the ending to that last chapter, didn’t you? well you’re in luck; here’s a sequel!
> 
> also can i just thank everyone once again for leaving such kind comments on here! i’ve actually reached over 80,000 words (something i _never_ thought i’d manage) and over 400 comments! i’m so so grateful for everyone who’s taken the time to comment on this regularly!
> 
> tw: mentions of depression and self-harm

Beca's been waiting for half an hour before she begins to think Chloe isn't going to show up. It's 11:30AM, thirty minutes after the time they'd agreed to meet at. She really doesn't know why she thought she'd come; it's been ten years since Chloe moved away to Atlanta to follow her dream, ten years since Beca was left crushed and broken after the love of her life moved on.

The brunette drops her head into her hands as tears prick at the corners of her eyes, dampening her fingertips. She feels so stupid to actually believe that Chloe would remember her after all these years. They fell out of contact after a year; Chloe had expressed how hard it was to keep track of their friendship, since she was studying so hard at vet school. Beca's sure it had been said in complete innocence, but she'd known that she was just dragging the redhead down. She didn't want to inconvenience her.

The first few years after Chloe moved away had been hard, harder than Beca had thought they'd be. She knew it would be hard, but _god_ , nothing could have prepared her for the aching in her chest that still hasn't gone. The second year, after they stopped talking, Beca had pulled away from the world. She stopped mixing, unable to rid her head of memories of softly sung duets as the sun rose, or fingers running through her hair as Chloe sang her to sleep.

Unsurprisingly, Beca hadn’t wanted to do anything. She would lie in bed, unmoving until Aubrey barged into her apartment and dragged her out of bed, insisting she needed to eat.

Nothing had seemed worth her time. Nothing was the same without Chloe’s bright, bubbly smile wherever she looked. Beca would flick through their old photo albums, tears streaming down her face as she remembered how good life was with Chloe.

She still drowns sometimes, pulled under by the suffocating memories. She still holds a blade to her skin sometimes, desperate to feel something other than the emptiness in her chest. She still forgets to eat sometimes, spending nights scribbling down song lyrics she’d never sing in favour of heating up a meal in the microwave. She still spends days in bed, unable to move as she stared blankly at the empty bed next to her, imagining Chloe beside her.

But despite this, she’s getting better. It’s been ten long, long years, but she’s finally building herself back up. She’s started mixing again, just able to push the memories from her mind long enough to create something decent. She even sings sometimes. It’s only ever when she’s alone, quietly sung lyrics in the shower or tunes hummed while she’s cleaning.

Beca’s even tried dating again, upon the insistence of Aubrey. She’s tried to move on, she really has. She’s dated, she’s had meaningless sex, she’s tried everything.

And it hasn’t worked.

Despite all her efforts, she’s still in love with Chloe Beale. She just can’t get that damn smile out of her mind. Beca knows it’s a problem, and she really does want to move on. But somewhere inside her doesn’t want to let go, _can’t_ let go.

Every time she meets someone decent, someone nice, she’ll catch sight of the polaroid in her purse and she just can’t date them. It feels like cheating on Chloe.

Beca’s watched Chloe grow from behind her computer screen, gathering information from the redhead’s social medias and even Aubrey when she can. (The blonde doesn’t like to bring Chloe up a lot because _“the more you think about her, the harder it is to move on”_ and Beca doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she won’t be moving on anytime soon.)

She’s watched Chloe’s relationship status change over the years, stared at all the posts of her partners with jealously deep in her gut. But then her eyes will land on a gorgeous selfie of the redhead, and the jealously will fade away.

Beca watched Chloe graduate through Facebook, watched her holiday to Mexico with her new friends through Snapchat, watched her get a new job and succeed through Instagram.

She’s stared at Chloe’s number in her contacts more times than she can count, her finger hovering over the call button. She could never bring herself to delete it, but she’s never had the courage to try and reconnect.

What if Chloe hates her?

Before Chloe left, they’d promised that, even if they weren’t friends anymore, they’d meet up in ten years. They’d agreed on the small park they’d both loved to visit on weekends.

Beca has never forgotten the day the plans were made.

So now she’s waiting, foot tapping anxiously on the gravel as her stomach flips and her chest tightens. Bile rises in her throat as she wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans, struggling to breathe.

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, concentrating on avoiding a panic attack; she’s had to learn to get through without Chloe’s soft words of encouragement coaxing her through.

It’s now 11:45 and she realises she must look stupid, sitting there alone, unable to stop herself checking her phone every couple of minutes. _Of course Chloe won’t come, who am I kidding? She’s probably married, living in New York with a rich husband and three kids, just like she always wanted. She’s probably forgotten about me, lonely old me, forgotten and left by everyone.  
_

It’s then that she hears her name being called in that bright, melodic tone she’s known for so long, and her head snaps up. She sees a woman, a woman who’s most certainly Chloe, with her startlingly bright eyes and fiery red curls. Beca gasps because _fuck_ , she looks absolutely _gorgeous_. The grainy photos online are _nothing_ compared to the real thing.

Beca stands before she can even comprehend what she’s doing and her legs move underneath her, carrying her towards the woman she loves. Chloe breaks into a run too, her pace a little faster because _of course_ she’s still working out.

When they meet in the middle, bodies slamming together, Beca feels tears spring into her eyes and begin to run down her cheeks. She’s breathing Chloe in and she smells exactly the same, just like vanilla and sunshine, and _fuck_ , Beca’s missed her like crazy. They hold each other desperately, grasping anything they can touch, unwilling to let go.

They can’t lose each other this time. Not again.

Finally, when both their faces are streaked with tears, they pull apart, still grasping each other’s hands tightly. “Oh my god, Becs,” Chloe breathes, reaching a hand up to stroke the brunette’s flushed cheek. “I’ve missed you so much.” Tears roll down her equally flushed cheeks and drip down her neck, but it doesn’t matter because Beca’s in front of her and they’re finally together again and all seems right in the world.

“Chlo,” is all Beca can say, the word quiet and choked, like she can’t quite believe it’s really Chloe in front of her. She wonders if it’s all a figment of her imagination, made up to try and cure her broken heart.

But then Chloe cups her cheeks and presses their lips together, and suddenly it’s very real. Beca kisses back with everything she has, unable to stop the steady stream of tears that roll down her cheeks.

They don’t talk about what it is, what it was, what it will be, they just kiss and kiss and kiss, relishing in the feeling of holding the other in their arms.


	70. haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #70:  
> “i’m terrified of haunted houses but you love them and now you want me to go in with you oH shit i’m panicking” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of abuse

“Can we go into the Haunted House?” Chloe asks suddenly, grabbing onto Beca’s arm as she catches a glimpse of the spooky lettering on the sign through the crowed.

Beca stiffens beside her, muscles tensing up involuntarily. This is not a good idea. She’s absolutely _terrified_ of haunted houses. It’s the way they jump out from the dark, hands grabbing at her body as she screams.

It reminds her a little too much of her father. Memories of him grabbing her from behind doors with rough hands, and slamming her against the wall. She still sees his face, looming over her broken body, in her sleep. It still leaves her waking up in a cold sweat, limbs shaking as she presses her nose into the pillow and tries to forget the mean glint that passed through his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Beca hates everything that reminds her of him and those years of abuse. The dark, small spaces, being trapped. The list goes on.

And Chloe doesn’t know anything.

It’s not like Beca doesn’t trust her, because she does, it’s just a lot to tell someone. She’s not exactly proud of the fears she’s taken away from the time she lived with her dad. But since moving in with The Bellas, she’s not as bad. Of course she gets bad days, really bad days, but they help her without even knowing it, Chloe especially.

But, despite the panic that claws at her chest, threatening to choke her, she forces a tight smile and turns to Chloe. “Of course,” she mumbles, worried that if she speaks any louder, the tremble in her voice will be audible. If Chloe notices just how terrified she is, she doesn’t say anything.

The smile that lights up Chloe’s face almost makes the panic-inducing fear okay. _Almost_ , but not quite. It’s enough for her to tell herself that it’s for Chloe, keep her happy, but not enough to calm the rising panic she feels, the panic dragging her down, pulling her under.

Before Beca realises what’s going on, the gorgeous redhead is pulling her towards the dark, imposing entrance to the house, a delighted spring in her step. The small brunette allows herself to be guided along, knowing that if it was up to her, her feet would be rooted to the ground, refusing to take another step.

Her vision blurs as Chloe buys the tickets, even flirting with the woman selling them. Beca doesn’t even feel her usual pang of jealously when she watches the interaction. She just focuses on inhaling for four, holding for six, and exhaling for seven. It’s a breathing technique her old therapist taught her that’s actually helped when she needs to calm an oncoming panic attack quickly and quietly.

As they enter into the house, the soft natural light fading considerably, Chloe quickly picks up on Beca’s lack of speech. She turns to her best friend, concern dancing in her bright eyes. Beca can barely see the redhead’s face in the dark, which makes everything worse.

“Are you okay, Becs?” Chloe asks softly, reaching out blindly to place a comforting hand on a pale forearm. Beca freezes, her mind running miles as she tries to come up with a suitable excuse.

“If you get scared, you can hold my hand,” the brunette whispers, masking her panic with worry for her best friend. She just hopes it’s believeable. Chloe isn’t really gullible, but Beca has known her to be convinced of things quite easily.

“O-kay?” Chloe frowns, a little confused, but shrugs it off as Beca just looking out for her.

As real darkness envelops them, wrapping around them like a blanket, the redhead feels Beca physically stiffen beside her, and she feels more than sees the flinch. Worry swirls in her stomach as she wonders just how okay the brunette actually is.

As they round a corner, Beca grabs Chloe and clings to her tightly. “D-don’t worry, n-none of this is real,” she whispers, mumbling the words quietly. The words are soft and desperate, like she’s trying to reassure herself more than the redhead beside her.

“I’m not scared?” Chloe replies, confusion filling her tone. “Are you—“ She’s cut off by a skeleton popping out from behind a curtain, it’s bones rattling loudly. Beca screams, and she sounds absolutely terrified. She whimpers as she turns her head into Chloe’s shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t dare look up as the skeleton slinks off behind the curtain once more.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Beca mumbles into the redhead’s jumper. Her voice is small and childish in a way Chloe’s never heard before, and her heart aches. It’s not often that Beca visibly shows her fear; she only does so when she’s too scared to actually think about hiding it.

Chloe thinks it must be bad if the brunette is openly crying.

“Are you scared?” Chloe already knows the answer, but she’d rather give Beca the opportunity to answer for herself. The tiny, almost invisible, movement of the brunette’s head tells her all she needs to know. The redhead immediately turns round and, keeping Beca wrapped tightly in her arms, begins to guide her back the way they came, totally disregarding the “one way” signs plastered to the wall.

Beca raises her head in confusion as she realises they’re walking, her cheeks flushed and her eyes puffy. Chloe’s heart breaks at the sight, because Beca looks so small and vulnerable and it’s something she’s really not used to. “Where are we going? What about the Haunted House?”

“We aren’t staying. You’re clearly scared, and I’m not going to make you endure it,” Chloe says softly, continuing to walk to the exit.

Beca falters in her step, quickly digging her heels into the ground to stop them. She stares at Chloe, confusion filling her dark eyes.

“But—” Beca starts, frowning. Chloe just places a finger to pale lips and starts walking again, encouraging the brunette to cooperate and walk with her.

“Sshh, just follow me.” Chloe totally ignores the teenage boy by the door that tells them that “they can’t just walk out the wrong way” and leads Beca out into the warm light of the evening.

As soon as she lifts Beca’s bowed head with her finger she sees the glistening tear tracks marring her cheeks, and the slight quivering of her bottom lip. Without hesitation, Chloe pulls the brunette into her arms once more, cradling her head with one hand, rubbing her back soothingly with the other.

“It’s okay baby, you’re safe now,” she coos, holding her best friend as she trembles, her body shaking as she sobs. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Chloe doesn’t ask why Beca’s crying — the brunette will tell her if she wants to — but she can take a good guess at the reason. Her stomach twists as she remembers her old friend from high school, the one that would sleep over at her house most nights because she was too afraid to go home. Chloe remembers witnessing it a few times, bile rising in her throat as she watched the man hurt his only daughter.

Chloe knows there’s no quick solution to a problem like this, so all she can do is hold Beca close until till the panic subsides.

And so she does.


	71. you’re hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #71:  
> a coffee shop au prompt from my lovely friend shannon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t want to say the actual prompt because it’ll really give the whole fic away, so i’ll just say the words: fluff, embarrassed beca and coffee shop
> 
> enjoy!

Beca has always wondered why the goddamn coffee shop she works at opens at seven am. She’s pretty sure that everyone is supposed to be in bed till at _least_ eight on any given day, even if they have to go to work. It’s a half an hour drive to work, and she has to get ready, so Beca ends up waking at six every morning. _Six o-fucking-clock._

Of course, she makes up for it by sleeping in till midday on the weekends, but she’ll forever be bitter about the injustice of having to wake up so early every morning.

There is, however, one good thing about the shop opening so damn early. And that’s Chloe Beale. The gorgeous, bubbly woman with the fiery red hair and startling blue eyes. Beca remembers the first time Chloe came into the coffee shop like it was just yesterday.

* * *

_Beca’s head snaps up as the bell above the door tinkles, letting her know that someone has entered the building. She usually looks back down straight away, not taking any notice of the customers coming in and out.  
_

_But this time, she freezes. The woman who’s just walked in is simply gorgeous, and Beca can’t help but stare, her jaw dropping slightly. The americano she’s making for the smartly dressed businessman is completely ignored in favour of dragging her eyes up and down the woman’s body._

_Navy eyes greedily drink in the bright hair tied up messily, strands falling softly, framing the redhead’s face. She lets her gaze wander over pale skinny jeans and knee high boots, over the tan trench coat and burghundy scarf._

_Beca’s snapped out of her trance by the impatient slap of a hand on the counter. She reluctantly tears her eyes away and finishes making the coffee, scowling at the knowing smirk on the man’s smug little face. She slams the cup onto the saucer a little too forcefully as she hands him his coffee._

_When the woman approaches the counter, already smiling warmly, Beca swoons. Her fingers slip from the mug in her grasp, and fumbling around as it falls. Her eyes snap down to where it lands and smashes on the tiled flooring._

_She curses softly under her breath, knowing her asshole of a manager will make her pay for it herself. Upon hearing the hesitant clearing of a throat from across the counter, Beca looks back up, embarrassment dusting her cheeks._

_It’s_ the _woman._

_“Uh, hi, um, how can I help you? I mean, uh, what can I get you?” Beca stumbles over her words as she grips the counter, knuckles turning white. She gulps and ducks her head, her blush only deepening._

_“I’d like a venti latte to go, please,” the woman asks kindly, shooting Beca a grin. “I’m Chloe, by the way.” The brunette just nods mutely and scribbles the name on a cup, unconsciously adding a small smiley face._

_When Beca’s fingers brush Chloe’s as she’s handing over the coffee, shivers run down her spine. She resigns herself to being utterly and completely fucked._

* * *

As Chloe makes her way to the counter, Beca smiles. They’ve formed a strange sort of friendship, one might say. A friendship that doesn’t involve meeting up outside of the coffee shop, a friendship that lasts about five minutes every day.

Beca supposes it isn’t really a friendship.

What it is, though, is unrequited love.

It’s been six months since Chloe Beale first stepped through the doors of the coffee shop, bright smile fixed in place. It’s been six months since Beca’s stomach flipped for the first time. It’s been six months since Beca realised she had a crush on the redhead.

They talk about generic things while Beca makes Chloe’s coffee. Things like the weather, work, and Chloe’s dog. (Beca, of course, remembers _everything_.)

Beca really hopes the massive crush she harbours on the redhead isn’t noticeable. Her stomach somersaults as usual as Chloe beams at her, already holding the cash to pay for her drink.

“Morning Beca!” She chirps, her voice bright and breezy as it always is. Beca doesn’t, and never will, understand how Chloe is so happy _every single day_ , despite the early start. Beca had been baffled when it was revealed that the redhead woke at five thirty every morning.

“Hey,” she mumbles softly, still half asleep. She wants to talk to Chloe today, she really does, but she barely got any sleep last night thanks to her goddamn cat jumping on her stomach in the middle of the night.

“Rough night?” Chloe asks immediately, watching Beca go through the motions of making her coffee with concern in her eyes.

Beca just nods and musters up the brightest smile she can, even though they both know it doesn’t quite reach her eyes the way it usually does.

For the first time in a while, Beca makes Chloe’s coffee in silence.

It’s awkward, to say the least. “Sorry I’m not really talkative this morning,” the brunette says apologetically, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

Chloe shakes her head with a smile. “It’s okay, Becs.” She reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and Beca’s heart just melts. The small woman can’t fight the wide smile that stretches across her lips as Chloe draws her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully.

“Here,” Beca says, handing over the takeaway cup carefully. She ignores the way her fingers tingle as they brush against Chloe’s. There’s no point dwelling on something that will never happen.

“Thanks!”

“Be careful, you’re hot.” Beca smiles nervously, but then her face freezes and her eyes widen. “ _Shit_ , I, um, what I meant was... uh, I tried to say ‘be careful, it’s hot’ and ‘you’re welcome’ at the same time and... oh god, I’m _so_ sorry,” she rambles, pressing her palms to her face to try and hide her bright red cheeks.

Chloe just giggles, fucking _giggles_ , the sound tinkly and melodic in a way that just makes Beca feel even worse. She keeps her eyes trained firmly on her scuffed converse, wishing the ground would just swallow her up.

The redhead quietens as she sees just how embarrassed Beca is, so she leans over the counter to take a sweaty palm in her own tan one. “Becs, it’s okay,” she says softly. “I think you’re hot too.”

Beca’s head whips up, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Really? You think so?” The brunette hardly believes her; it’s practically still the night, her hair is thrown up in a messy... something — she’s not entirely sure whether it can be classed as a bun or whether the term “heap of hair” is more appropriate — and her uniform isn’t exactly the most attractive thing she’s ever worn.

“Oh totes.” The words are accompanied by a flirtacious wink, intended to bring the endearing blush back to Beca’s cheeks.

It works.

“So, how about a date?” Chloe asks confidently, sliding a piece of paper across the counter. Beca looks down at it speechlessly, wondering what the hell she’s done to deserve Chloe’s number and a doodled heart.

“Yes, yes of course,” she replies, not knowing quite what else to say. She may be a mumbling mess around Chloe, but the redhead is smiling at her so brightly she’s not even sure it matters anymore.


	72. sleepwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #72:  
> another prompt from shannon because her ideas are amazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is pretty long! i enjoyed writing it so much! hope you all  
> enjoy it :)
> 
>  
> 
> _(by the way, i’m working on the next chapter of “twins”, so it’ll be up soon i hope.)_

**i.**

The first time it happens it freaks Chloe _the fuck_ out. One minute she’s asleep, wrapped up tightly in her duvet and the next her eyes are flickering open to the sight of Beca staring at her, a wide-eyed expression on her face. She screams, because what else is she meant to do? It startles her more than scares her, because it's only Beca, but at the same time, why the _flying fuck_ is the brunette just stood there, unblinking?

For a moment, Chloe wonders if Beca's some sort of zombie, coming to kill her in the middle of the night. She dismisses the idea immediately because that's totally not true. Just her stupid imagination. It is 4AM, after all.

Chloe hesitates before pushing back the covers and sliding out of her bed. She almost just rolls over and falls back asleep because she's _so warm_ and it's _so cold_ in her room, but she can't just leave Beca standing there, staring. She's not really sure what to do. Beca isn't moving, isn't speaking, isn't even blinking. She pads over to the small brunette, raising her hand cautiously.

She waves it in front of Beca's face, trying to get a reaction out of her. All she gets is an eerie silence and no signs of life. Chloe's about to start panicking when it occurs to her that the brunette is probably just sleepwalking. The redhead lets out a short breath of relief when she realises Beca definitely isn't a zombie sent to kill her in her sleep. She's read somewhere about not waking people if they're sleepwalking, so she lets Beca stand there as she wracks her brain. She definitely remembers Lilly saying _something_ about sleepwalking.

Chloe's not entirely sure what it was, and she's not even sure if she wants to remember, because Lilly says some really strange shit.

She cannot remember anything for the life of her, but it's 4AM, so who can blame her? Blinking sleepily, she moves over to her nightstand to grab her phone. Time for some early morning research.

Beca's still staring, her eyes blank and unfocused, and it's starting to unnerve her. She scrolls through a website, scanning the lengthy descriptions on types of sleepwalkers. She doesn't care about that bit right now, she just wants to do _something_ about her best friend. It's not like she can just leave her there and go back to sleep. After a few more minutes of scrolling, Chloe finds a paragraph on what to do if you witness someone sleepwalking.

 _Aha_.

Apparently she just has to guide Beca back to bed. Okay, that's easy enough.

Chloe shuts off her phone and walks back over to the brunette, trying not to shiver as she feels dark eyes stare right through her. She places a soft hand on the small of Beca's back, making sure the touch is light. Then, with her other hand, she slowly turns Beca round so they're facing her bedroom door. _So far so good,_ she thinks, a sense of pride blooming inside her. Chloe carefully leads Beca out of her room, down the hall and back into her own room.

Despite the slightly disturbing nature of the situation, Chloe can't help but admire how good Beca looks. She's in an over-sized shirt — one that the redhead is sure is actually hers — leaving her toned legs out on display. Chloe swallows and tries to ignore how good they look with the moonlight bouncing off them, highlighting the firm muscles. (She had practically collapsed the first time she'd seen Beca in shorts.)

Chloe snaps out of the memory and focuses on guiding Beca back into her bed. She awkwardly tries to arrange the brunette's small limbs into a comfortable position, but it doesn't really work, so she settles for pulling her arms back down to her sides. Beca releases a soft puff of breath, and for a minute, Chloe thinks she's going to wake up, but she doesn't. Instead, her eyelids flutter shut and she scrunches up her nose like she does when she's confused. It's adorable.

Chloe can't help dropping a tender kiss to Beca's forehead before she leaves, closing the door behind her. She pads back to her room, wishing could slide into Beca's bed and curl up next to her. Her bed is cold when she falls back into it, her eyes heavy with tiredness.

And that's how Chloe finds out Beca sleepwalks.

**ii.**

The second time it happens, Chloe's not as startled. After all, it's only been three days since the last time.

Beca hadn’t brought it up the next morning, so Chloe had assumed she didn’t remember it. She’d done some intensive research the next day, determined to find out all she could about sleepwalkers and what they do.

Apparently it occurs when the sufferer is sleep deprived, which Chloe supposes Beca is. It’s not long till Worlds and she still has a set list to finish. It’s common knowledge amongst the Bellas that the small DJ has been having some trouble. That, plus the stress of her new internship at Residual Heat must be taking more of a toll than Chloe originally thought.

So now, when Chloe wakes to see Beca pushing open the door and walking into her room, she just sighs sleepily. Rubbing the tiredness from her eyes, she slides out of bed and glances at the clock.

3AM.

Chloe really wishes Beca would stop doing this, but part of her quite likes taking the brunette back to bed and tucking her in. There’s something domestic about it that she likes more than she’d care to admit.

(It’s also common knowledge amongst the Bellas that she’s in love with Beca.)

Stifling a yawn, Chloe takes Beca by the arm and turns her around, guiding her once more down the hall and into her room. The brunette looks adorable, as usual, her eyes not so wide this time. She just looks _tired_ , and Chloe’s heart aches for her.

She really needs to make sure Beca’s taking care of herself properly.

Chloe tucks the small woman into bed like she did the other night, even daring to place a kiss on her forehead once more. What she doesn’t expect though, is Beca’s hand shooting out and grabbing her wrist as she turns to leave.

The redhead whips round, worried that she’s woken Beca up, but she’s just met with half-lidded eyes and a sleepy smile.

“Chlo,” Beca mumbles, tugging at her wrist. Chloe’s eyes widen as the brunette rolls over in bed, pulling her down with her. She has no choice but to slide in beside Beca, hyper-aware of the situation she’s in.

She tries to lie completely still, ignoring the urge to roll over and curl her body around Beca’s. It’s not appropriate, especially as the younger woman is asleep.

“Cuddle,” Beca whispers, the word laced with sleep. Chloe cautiously turns onto her side and inches closer, not knowing quite what to do. It doesn’t matter though, because Beca rolls again and buries her head in her chest. Chloe smiles at how adorable her best friend is being, relishing in the feeling of finally being home.

Beca pushes her head further into the crook of the redhead’s neck, her breath ghosting across soft tan skin. A shiver runs down Chloe’s spine, but she ignores it and wraps her arms around Beca’s small frame instead.

She falls asleep with a content smile on her lips.

She also leaves before Beca wakes, too worried about having to answer all kinds of questions if she stays, wrapped up in the brunette’s embrace.

It’s better that way.

**iii.**

The sixth time it happens, two weeks after the first time, Chloe’s had enough of taking Beca back to bed. She loves the brunette, she really does, but at four in the morning, she just really can’t be bothered.

And so, when she wakes up and sees Beca standing there, she grabs the woman’s wrist and tugs her into her own bed. It’s a risk, a huge risk, but it’s one she’s willing to take.

She only fell asleep a few hours ago — she’d been awake, obsessing over Worlds — and she _really_ can’t be bothered to get up and take Beca all the way back to her bed.

The brunette falls easily onto the mattress, her arms immediately opening to embrace Chloe. It’s almost like she knows, or she’s half-aware of what’s going on without being properly awake.

Chloe smiles and snuggles into Beca, tangling their legs together as she relaxes. It’s so warm and Beca smells like lavender and it’s _perfect_. Chloe wishes she could spend every night like this, wrapped up with the woman she loves.

Beca presses her face into Chloe’s chest, sighing softly against her breasts. The redhead blushes in the dark, unable to help the _other thoughts_ that enter her mind. Thoughts that definitely aren’t innocent.

She pushes them from her mind because it’s _really_ inappropriate, and Beca will never love her the way she wants her to. It’s just something she has to learn to accept.

Chloe feels herself beginning to drift off, perhaps a little drunk with happiness. She makes sure to wrap her arms tightly around Beca as her eyelids flutter shut; she never wants to lose her.

* * *

Chloe wakes to a tapping on her shoulder, and for a minute she panics, worried that she’s being attacked. But then she remembers that Beca Mitchell is in her bed, and her heart rate spikes for a totally different reason.

“Chloe,” Beca says, poking the redhead’s cheek. Chloe reluctantly opens her eyes, groaning as she’s greeted with sunlight. It’s way too early for this.

Time for a fun conversation about Beca’s sleepwalking that lead to midnight cuddles.

“Hmm?” She mumbles, letting her eyes fall closed once more. She presses her face into the pillow and sighs, relaxing back into the bed.

Beca glares at Chloe’s content expression and slaps her cheek gently. “Wake the fuck up,” she demands. “I want answers.”

Chloe does open her eyes then, because Beca sounds just a little bit cross, and she really doesn’t want that. “Answers to what?” She asks, feigning innocence.

“Why the fuck am I in your bed? I mean, the cuddling is fine, more than fine, even, but I’m still confused. How did I end up here?” Chloe finally turns round in bed to see Beca sitting at the end, cross-legged. She has a cup of coffee in her hand, slender fingers wrapped round the mug.

She’s half smiling, her hair is still thrown up messily, and her shirt is creased, but she looks gorgeous. Chloe doesn’t think she’s ever been so attracted to her.

“Oh, well.” Chloe pauses to push herself up against her headboard. Beca holds out her mug of coffee and offers the redhead a sip, which she gladly accepts. “Over the past couple of weeks you’ve been sleepwalking. I’ve been taking you back to your room, but last night I was really tired so I just pulled you in here with me. You cuddled willingly, though,” Chloe explains, smiling fondly in memory.

Beca’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment, the previously pale skin turning a lovely shade of red. “Oh my god, really? I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I... I mean, I used to do it a lot but I thought I stopped. Oh god, it’s really creepy, isn’t it?”

Chloe immediately places the coffee down and surges forwards, wrapping her arms around the brunette. “Oh Becs, no, it’s fine! I mean, it was a little weird at first, but honestly, it’s okay!” Chloe assures, rubbing Beca’s back. “I enjoy the cuddles,” she adds, winking as she pulls away.

Beca blushes again and ducks her head. “I just feel bad for waking you up so much.”

“Oh my god, sweetie, don’t feel bad!” Chloe squeezes Beca’s hand, lacing their fingers together gently. The brunette looks down at their joined hands and smiles, her eyes twinkling.

Chloe swoons.

**iv.**

Since their chat, three weeks ago, they’ve continued doing the same thing. Beca comes into Chloe’s room, gets pulled into bed, they cuddle, wake up and repeat. It’s starting to get tiring, because Chloe keeps having to be woken up, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

She needs her sleep, okay?

And that’s why she’s currently standing outside Beca’s room at 10PM. She’s going to ask her best friend and love of her life if she wants to spend the night with her.

Not by accident.

She wants to ask, anyways. She’s currently freaking out, too nervous to knock, let alone walk right in. She should be fine, right? She has no reason to worry, it’s only Beca.

But it’s not _only Beca_ , is it? It’s never been _only Beca_.

Chloe’s about to go in, she really is. (She isn’t.) But then the door opens to reveal Beca standing there, headphones slung around her neck.

“Are you okay, Chlo? You’ve been standing outside my room for ten minutes now.” Beca stares at her, concern etched into she face.

Chloe blushes and averts her eyes, too embarrassed to meet the brunette’s gaze. “Yes yes, I’m fine. I just came to, uh, ask you something.” Beca cocks her head to the side curiously, her nose scrunching up in that adorable way that Chloe adores so much.

“What is it?”

“D-Do you maybe want to, um, sleep with me tonight?” Chloe realises what’s she’s said as soon as it leaves her mouth, and she gasps, mortified. Beca giggles, actually _giggles_ , and Chloe momentarily forgets her painful embarrassment. But then it slams back into her full force, and she cringes. “Oh my god, I did _not_ mean it like that. I meant, do you want to sleep in my bed? Not-not sexually, just um, sleeping. Of course you can say no, I just thought it would be easier because of your sleepwalking and—”

Beca grins and wraps Chloe in a hug, her slender arms snaking round the redhead’s waist as she buries her face in her neck. “Of course I want to,” the brunette replies quietly, her lips moving against Chloe’s skin.

Chloe shivers. Beca’s lips are on her neck, holy shit. She wishes it were in the way she dreams of day and night, but for now, she’ll take anything she can get.

“Oh thank god,” she whispers, pressing her body as close to Beca’s as she possibly can. She just wants to revel in the sense of calm security that surrounds her in her best friend’s arms.

Beca leans up to press a kiss on Chloe’s cheek, her lips soft. “Love you,” the brunette mumbles, smiling.

Chloe’s heart stops.


	73. humour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #73:  
> beca always makes self-deprecating jokes and chloe hates it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is quite sad, i think? enjoy, anyways.
> 
>  **tw:** mentions of suicide and anxiety

**i.**

The Bellas are sat in their living room, glasses of wine clasped in their hands. Everyone is a little loose-lipped — it is a Friday night, after all — and all cheeks are rosy. Beca and Chloe are cuddled up on their couch, as usual, legs tangled together, hands linked. The rest of the girls are sprawled out on various couches and bean bags, all a little more handsy than before.

The conversation, of course, turns to relationships. (It always does these days, especially with The Bellas trying to make Beca realise Chloe’s in love with her.) “I just want someone to love me,” Cynthia-Rose groans, raising her wine glass to her lips and taking a big gulp.

“Get yourself a girl that can do both,” Stacie suggests, winking. The two girls have been flirting for a few months now; subtle winks here and there, not-so-innocent touches as they watch movies, promises of “just tonight” that turn into more. The Bellas don’t know why they won’t date, but it’s assumed that with Stacie’s commitment issues and Cynthia’s bad breakup history, the term “fuck buddies” is the one that best fits their relationship.

“Or get yourself a girl that can do neither,” Emily pipes up, her words slurring together, a lazy grin stretched across her lips. No one knows why the Legacy was allowed any alcohol; the girl is an _extremely_ stupid drunk.

“Oh, my time to shine,” Beca mumbles, raising her wine glass to her lips to muffle the words. Chloe’s head whips round, her brows creasing into frown as she process what the brunette just said.

“Beca, sweetie, you know that’s not true,” she assures, leaning across to press a sloppy kiss to her best friend and crush’s cheek. Beca just shoots her a weak smile and turns away, draining her glass of wine.

**ii.**

When they first begin dating, roughly two months later, Beca is extremely shy. Chloe’s half used to it, because the brunette has always been quiet, but sometimes it’s a little concerning.

Before they dated, Beca would tentatively cuddle into Chloe’s side on the couch. She would always hesitate before asking for something, like she was expecting Chloe to say no. She would always fiddle with the hem of her shirt, scrunching it up tightly in her fist if she was anxious.

Which was a lot.

Chloe doesn’t know why this is, but she’s never dared to ask. She knows that if she does, Beca will just retreat further into her shell.

Even now that they’re dating, Beca’s still painfully shy, and rarely initiates contact unless Chloe does. She never kisses her without asking, and even if she does ask, it’s a question mumbled nervously behind her hands.

It all kind of makes sense one day.

Chloe walks into her room after practice, tired and sweaty, to find a small folded note on her desk. Her name is written in Beca’s familiar messy scrawl on the front, and her curiously spikes.

Frowning, she picks it up and unfolds it. There’s a title at the top in big, printed lettering — _‘Perks of Dating Me’_ — followed by a list of just three things.

 _1\. You don’t need to worry about long term commitment because I’m probably going to kill myself soon anyway._  
2\. I won’t annoy you by talking too much because I have crippling social anxiety and struggle to string sentences together without having a nervous breakdown.  
3\. I’ll send you obscure memes that I find on Tumblr.

The list makes Chloe bring a hand to her heart, tears threatening to prick at the corners of her eyes. She can’t tell if it’s a self-deprecating attempt at humour, or whether the brunette is actually being serious.

She can’t stand the thought of Beca feeling this way, so she ditches the shower in favour of going in search of her girlfriend.

Time to find out what she meant.

**iii.**

Chloe walks into Residual Heat, a plastic box clutched in her hand. Beca forgot to take her lunch with her _again_ , so she’s taking it upon herself to bring it to her.

She asks where she can find Beca at the reception desk, but all she gets is a vague wave to the corner of the room. Chloe rolls her eyes and marches towards the desk the brunette is supposedly sat at. Her girlfriend isn’t there, but she knows she’s in the right place because there’s a small name card on the top.

Chloe feels a sense of pride swell inside her. God, she loves Beca _so much._

It’s then that she notices the new mug sat on the desk. She frowns as she reads it, her face falling as she realises how self-deprecating it is. Beca’s supposed humour is the one thing she really hates about her.

Well, not _hates_ , because Chloe could never hate any part of her girlfriend, but it saddens her more than she’d like to admit.

Footsteps sound behind her, and she spins on her heel to face Beca, who’s now standing a few feet away, holding a stack of papers to her chest. The brunette freezes as she sees Chloe’s disapproving expression, panic beginning to rise inside her. Beca sees the sadness in her girlfriend’s eyes and it kills her.  _She must have seen the mug. Oh shit. Why didn’t I think before I bought it? I’m so stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stu—_

“Beca, why do you have a mug that says _‘I am the human equivalent of a typo’_ on it?” Chloe demands, softly but firmly.

“Because I am?” Beca tries, shrugging guiltily. Her stomach twists as she sees how disappointed Chloe is. She’s let her down, again. She probably hates her now. She’s not surprised.

“No, Becs, you’re not,” Chloe insists, dumping the lunch box on the desk as she pulls her girlfriend into a tight hug.

She notices how Beca seems a little skinnier than before. Perhaps she hadn’t forgotten her lunch on purpose.

**iv.**

“Beca Mitchell! Why didn’t you put out the garbage this morning? You know it’s your day!” Chloe demands, marching into Beca’s room. The brunette is sat in front of her laptop, headphones over her ears. The fruit salad Chloe had made her for breakfast is sat, untouched, next to her.

Beca immediately pauses her music and pulls her headphones down onto her neck, her expression morphing into one of guilt. “It’s garbage day?” She asks, her voice small and hesitant.

Chloe fights to keep her mask of frustration in place because Beca looks so _guilty_ and she hates to be the reason for that.

“Yes, you know this,” the redhead huffs, folding her arms across her chest. She fights the urge to just run to Beca and pull her into her arms, but she really needs to learn to be firm around the brunette and not melt every single time.

“I can’t believe they made a day dedicated to me,” Beca whispers, supposedly to herself, but the words are loud enough for Chloe to hear.

The redhead’s (failed) frustration dissipates in a flash, and she moves towards her girlfriend. “Oh sweetie,” she mumbles softly, cupping Beca’s cheeks and placing a tender kiss on her lips.

She feels the brunette tense briefly, but she soon relaxes, returning the kiss hesitantly.

**v.**

“Beca, come to bed,” Chloe whines, staring over at where the brunette is sat at her desk, eyes glued to her laptop. “You can do that tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow,” Beca mumbles softly, her eyes flicking down to the digital clock in the corner of her screen. She’d forgotten to finish the set list yesterday, and after a small nervous breakdown, she’d sat down at 11PM, determined to finish it.

“You need to rest, Becs,” the redhead says, hating that her girlfriend won’t listen to reason. She also hates the fact it’s practically her fault; she’s the one who dropped into conversation how much she needed the goddamn list.

“No,” Beca says stubbornly, continuing to tap away at her keyboard, mixing and moving things around.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning if you stay up late,” Chloe tries, pushing the duvet off her legs as she shifts in bed. It’s boiling in Beca’s room, and she doesn’t know how the brunette is still wrapped up in a thick hoodie.

“Jokes on you, I’m going to hate myself in the morning no matter what,” Beca laughs emptily, a hint of sadness laced underneath the attempt at humour.

“No no no,” Chloe whines, sliding off the bed. She pads over to the desk and wraps are arms around Beca’s neck from behind, dropping a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She hates the brunette’s self-deprecating humour with a passion, but it never seems to stop. All she can do is remind her that she’s loved, and that she’s perfect as she is.


	74. twins (4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand it’s back! a comment on one of my oneshots spurred me back into action with this five-part fic, and i just finished this chapter! sorry for any typos; i wrote it quite quickly! hope you all enjoy it :)
> 
> just a quick side note: _beca cannot come up with a good plan to save her life._

Beca’s angrier than she thought she’d be. The thought of Stephanie standing Chloe up had, of course, passed through her mind a few days ago, but she hadn’t felt _nearly_ as mad as she does now. She doesn’t know why she’s so angry at her sister, because she should be glad, but the sight of Chloe sitting at that table when she’d picked her up had tugged at her heartstrings a little too much.

They’d gone straight home, the journey silent apart from the few words of comfort Beca offered as they drove off. Chloe hadn’t tried to make conversation like she usually would, and instead chose to stare out of the window at the passing traffic.

Chloe had disappeared into her room as soon as they’d stepped through the door of their apartment, muttering a quick thanks and something about being tired. Beca had just shrugged the quiet behaviour off, knowing the redhead must be upset, and retreated to her own room.

She’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep knowing that her sister had hurt her best friend and crush. (Although it’s not really a crush, is it?)

Beca had come up with a plan. But she supposes it’s not _really_ a plan, because the only thing it involves is confronting Stephanie, and she still has no idea what she’s going to say. It was three am when she thought of it, okay?

She gets dressed and leaves the apartment before Chloe wakes up, but not before making the redhead’s favourite omelette and a latte. Beca leaves them on the counter, knowing the smell will wake Chloe up.

The drive to Stephanie’s hotel takes longer than she would have liked — why is everyone travelling on a Saturday morning? — but she finally arrives and parks. It takes less than five minutes to get her room number from the woman at the desk, and another five on top of that to ride the lift up to Stephanie’s room. (Why did she have to be on the top floor?)

Beca knocks loudly and with impatience, tapping her foot nervously on the carpeted flooring. She still doesn’t know what she’s going to say, but she’ll figure it out because she will _not_ stand for anyone hurting Chloe, no matter who they are.

She hears footsteps behind the door, and she’s glad Stephanie’s awake, because she would have knocked on the goddamn door till she woke up anyways.

The surprise on Stephanie’s face when she sees her is so obvious Beca almost wants to laugh. “Hey Stephanie,” she greets, offering an awkward half wave. Her sister just nods stiffly and opens the door, silently inviting her inside.

Neither of them speak at first, which Beca’s actually quite happy about, because she _still_ needs to figure out how to bring up Chloe. She decides starting with small talk and slowly easing into the topic is probably the best way forward.

“Why did you stand Chloe up?” She blurts, unable to help herself. Stephanie’s eyes widen and she shifts uncomfortably on her feet. Beca winces, because that really wasn’t the best way to say it, but it’s done now. She just has to hope now that her sister doesn’t kick her out.

She doesn’t.

Instead, Stephanie offers her a seat and disappears to make them both coffee. Beca thinks she’s taking it remarkably well, even if the surprise had stayed on her face for a little longer than normal.

Beca spends the next few minutes trying to formulate an actual plan, but she doubts she’s going to stick to it, so she gives up.

Stephanie returns a few minutes later, a streaming cup of coffee in each hand. Beca accepts hers gratefully, taking a big gulp before looking back up at her sister. The other brunette is watching her, eyes narrowed almost suspiciously.

Beca’s jealous of how good she looks this early in the morning. Somehow her messy bun looks effortless, and not like a dead badger just dumped on her head.

“So... anything else you’d like to say?” Stephanie asks, breaking the awkward silence. Beca takes one final gulp of coffee — she almost wishes it was something a _lot_ stronger — and clears her throat.

“I’d like an answer to my first question.”

Stephanie hesistates as lifts her mug to her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully. It’s an action that reminds Beca of Chloe, and her heart aches. “You care a lot about her,” Stephanie chooses to say, draining her coffee.

“Of course I care about her, she’s my best friend,” Beca snaps, glaring at her sister. Why won’t Stephanie just answer the goddamn question?

“Hmm,” the brunette says, leaning back on the couch to stare at Beca. She hums, her eyes faraway as she thinks. Beca just glares at her impatiently, tapping her foot on the floor. Stephanie meets her gaze and stares at her, seemingly trying to formulate the right words in her head. “Well, if you want a short answer: she’s in love with someone else.”

Beca’s jaw drops. Her heart stops.

It restarts two seconds later, but her jaw remains on the floor. “I... What?” She doesn’t quite know what to say, because _what the fuck is Stephanie on about?_ Chloe isn’t in love with anyone? Is she? Beca doesn’t even know what to think anymore. “A-Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, Beca. She wouldn’t even kiss me. I could tell she liked someone else. She’d stare at me in this weird way, like she was pretending I was someone else. Trust me on this, I’ve been there before,” Stephanie explains confidently, leaning forward to rest her arms on her thighs. She adjusts her bun and brushes some hair from her face, waiting for Beca’s reaction.

"I'm just... I had no idea," Beca splutters, still trying to wrap her head around the idea that's Chloe Beale, her best friend, is already in love with someone. How could she not tell her? Beca thinks that's what hurts the most, because they've been friends for _so long_ , and she thought Chloe would tell her about something as important as this. Clearly not, though.

"Really? She said you were best friends. She really gushed about you... Oh." Stephanie trails off as her realisation suddenly washes over her face. She quietens immediately as she processes what just occurred to her. Beca stares, her brow furrowing as she tries to work out what just happened.

“What? Am I missing something here?”

“No no, definitely not,” Stephanie assures, schooling her expression. If Beca doesn’t already know Chloe’s in love with her, she can’t be the one to spill the secret. It’s certainly not hers to spill. Beca just narrows her eyes suspiciously, but doesn’t say anything.

“So are you going to tell her?”

“Tell who what?”

“You need to tell Chloe that you don’t want to date her anymore,” Beca says, as though it’s obvious. Stephanie nods absentmindedly as she studies her sister’s expression. “For god’s sake Stephanie, what is it?”

“Why do you care about Chloe so much?” Stephanie asks suddenly, watching with a smirk as Beca’s eyes widen. It takes a few seconds for her to morph her startled expression back into a neutral, slightly defensive one.

“As I said before, she’s my best friend,” Beca repeats, scowling. She crosses her arms across her chest, digging her nails into her arm as she fights the urge to just blurt out how much she loves Chloe Beale.

“You care about her more than that. Some may even say you’re—” Beca cuts her sister off with a pointed glare, the look so icy it could kill.

“Fine! Fine, you got me. I’m in love with Chloe.” Stephanie’s expression softens considerably at the confession, as though it suddenly made it so much more real. She feels a pang of guilt in her stomach, because she oils never have gone out with Chloe if she had known.

“I’m sorry, Beca. I hope you know I’d never have agreed to go on a date with her if I’d known at the time.” The words are spoken with such honesty that it surprises Beca, and she comes to the conclusion that perhaps Stephanie isn’t as bad as she once was.

“It’s fine,” Beca says, shrugging, because doesn’t really know what else to say. Stephanie still looks so guilty and she hates it; it’s like staring at herself.

“But it’s not,” Stephanie insists. “I know you don’t like me, and I don’t blame you. I was horrible to you when we were younger, all because I was popular and everyone seemed to prefer me. I never understood it, but I just went with it. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Beca offers her sister a small smile, thankful for the apology. “Thank you. I guess I’m over it now, but it hurt to see you with Chloe, especially because we look identical,” she admits, playing nervously with the hem of her jumper.

“I can’t imagine, but again, I’m sorry. I hope it works out between you. I really hope I haven’t messed things up.”

Beca just shrugs, because she doesn’t really know what’s going to happen between her and Chloe. Probably nothing. Especially if Chloe’s in love with someone else.

Unless it’s her?

No, that’s stupid. Of course it isn’t her. _Stop dreaming, Mitchell. Grow up. Wake up._ Beca smiles weakly and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind whirring.

“So can you go and tell Chloe you don’t want to date her anymore?” She asks, expecting Stephanie to agree easily. The shake of her sister’s head surprises her, and she frowns. “Why not?”

“It’s too weird, now. She’ll figure it out,” Stephanie says, nodding confidently. Beca just stares at her, frustration rising inside her. She has to tell Chloe _somehow_.

But then an idea pops into her head. It’s stupid, really stupid, but it could work. It could definitely work. It’s probably the worst idea she’s ever had — and she’s had a _lot_ of bad ideas — but it’s worth a try.

“I have to go,” she says suddenly, rising from the couch. Chloe will probably be at their favourite coffee shop now, having brunch with Aubrey. Perfect. Stephanie stares at her curiously, but just nods and stands up. “I need one of your jumpers,” Beca adds, her tone firm.

She gets a very strange look, but Stephanie abides and fetches a soft knitted jumper from her bag. She doesn’t even ask her sister to bring it back.

“It was nice to see you,” Stephanie says softly as Beca steps out of the door.

“You too.” Beca turns and presses a kiss to her sister’s cheek, smiling gently. And then she turns and leaves, her small legs carrying her as fast as they can down the corridor.

* * *

Beca arrives at the coffee shop ten minutes later. She sneaks in through the back — they know the owners pretty well, so she knows she's allowed — and goes to the restrooms, shutting herself in a cubicle so she can change. Once she's done, she hides her clothes in one of the cupboards and quickly ties her hair up in the mirror.

She looks exactly like Stephanie.

The jumper hides the supposed tattoos on her arm, and she removes two of her earrings. Chloe will never know it's her. She's actually pretty proud of this plan, even though she's half expecting it to go wrong. Things always do when she's involved. Nevertheless, she's determined to execute this perfectly (or try to).

Taking a deep breath, Beca leaves the toilets and enters into the coffee shop, scanning the cosy room for Chloe. She spots the redhead at her usual corner table, talking animatedly to Aubrey.

The brunette tries not to fiddle with the hem of her jumper as she approaches, knowing it’s definitely not something Stephanie would do. She swallows back the lump in her throat and tries to stay calm. She’s a good actress. She can do this.

“Chloe! Fancy seeing you here,” she says brightly, glad that she sounds exactly like her sister. There’s no way Chloe will realise it’s not Stephanie; she knows Beca would never speak in a tone that cheerful.

Both heads whip round to stare at her, Chloe’s one of surprise, Aubrey’s one of disdain. Beca hopes never to be on the receiving end of that look ever again. Especially not for real.

“What are you doing here?” Aubrey half snarls, and it takes everything in Beca not to flinch in fright. Stephanie wouldn’t do that. Stephanie would stay calm and relaxed. She sees Chloe kick Aubrey lightly in the shin under the table, and she smirks.

“I came to talk to Chloe,” Beca announces, subtly wiping her palms on her jeans. _Stay calm, stay calm. Just breathe._

“You’re not welcome,” Aubrey snaps, glaring at her. Chloe’s eyes widen and she kicks the blonde again, this time hard enough to elicit a small wince. “Sorry,” she mutters under her breath, still glaring.

“Aubrey was just leaving, weren’t you Bree?” Chloe says, shooting her friend a pointed look. Aubrey rolls her eyes and stands up reluctantly, grabbing her handbag as she turns to leave.

“Watch what you say, bitch,” the blonde hisses as she passes, brushing Beca’s shoulder a little too forcefully to be accidental. The brunette nods silently and gulps, her palms sweating.

This is a lot harder than she thought it would be. Beca slides into Aubrey’s chair and tries not to meet Chloe’s gaze as she attempts to formulate an appropriate sentence in her head. What would Stephanie say?

“We need to talk,” she says. Okay, perhaps not what her sister would have said, but it’s better than her _‘It’s me, I’m dressed as Stephanie because she didn’t want to break up with you’_ she had spinning round her head.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Chloe leans back in her chair and looks down at her hands, pretending to inspect her nails. Beca knows the nonchalance is only a facade. Having to do this is killing her, even if it’s fake.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Beca starts, licking her lips. She tries to sit upright like she knows Stephanie would, her shoulders pulled back in confidence.

“What? Why?”

“Well, it’s just a bit weird. I mean, isn’t dating me weird? Beca’s your best friend, and we look _identical_ ,” Beca says, her voice calm. She’s actually pretty proud, despite being a mess inside.

Chloe pauses, acceptance washing over her face. She doesn’t look as upset as Beca thought she would, which lessens the blow of having to “break up” with her slightly. “I guess it is a bit,” she agrees, tapping the table absentmindedly.

“You’re very sweet though.” Chloe smiles at the compliment, her blue eyes lighting up happily. Beca smiles back automatically, but it threatens to drop as she remembers it’s _Stephanie_ Chloe’s looking at, not her.

“Thanks! I guess I’ll see you around, then,” the redhead says, rising from her chair. Beca rises too; she knows this is her chance to escape. She’s so glad this went well. It was actually easier than she’d thought.

“Yes. It was lovely to meet you Chloe.” Beca stands up too and steps towards the older woman. Her heart rate spikes as Chloe leans in, clearly expecting a kiss. _Shit shit shit._ She’s never kissed Chloe before, obviously.

Beca’s imagined their first kiss, of course she has, but it _definitely_ didn’t go like this. Not dressed up as Stephanie, breaking up with Chloe because her sister didn’t want to do it herself.

She can’t just not kiss her, can she?

Her eyelids flutter closed as their lips meet, to tongues sliding together instinctively. Beca melts into the kiss, her arms moving to wrap round Chloe’s waist. The redhead presses herself closer, releasing a soft whimper as Beca bites down on her lip.

But then, before the brunette knows what’s going on, Chloe pulls back in alarm. She stares, wide-eyed, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. “Beca?”

Beca freezes because _fuck_. What is she meant to say? “Uhhhhh...” Panic bubbles up inside her, clawing at her chest. God, how _stupid_ could she be? Of course Chloe would realise it was her. How, though, she has no idea.

“Why are you dressed like your sister? Why were you pretending to be her? I’m so confused right now.” Chloe sinks back down into her chair and presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. She releases a long, slow breath, trying t wrap her head around what just happened.

“I-I went to see her and she said she didn’t want to date you anymore because of... something, but she said she wouldn’t come and tell you herself. I didn’t know what else to do! I didn’t want you to just think she didn’t like you,” Beca explains desperately, her hands trembling. She sways slightly on her feet, the world spinning around her.

“Becs, why the hell did you do that? You really didn’t need go to this extent. You could have just told me.” Chloe frowns at her, brows creased, eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry,” Beca whispers, unable to calm herself down. Her hands are shaking uncontrollably, her legs on the verge of giving way underneath her. She doesn’t know what to do.

And so she runs.


	75. earphones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #75:  
> beca always has her earphones in, and it’s staring to annoy chloe. one day she snaps, but finds out it’s not for the reason she thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably _awful_ but hey, it’s something, right? i was going to edit it but i’m too busy, so here it is completely unedited. enjoy?

Chloe’s had a bad day.

Scratch that. An _awful_ day. A day so bad she just wants to cuddle in bed with her best friend and watch a movie. She’s tired, frustrated and mentally drained; she can already feel herself getting worked up at the thought of not relaxing.

As soon as she enters the Bellas house, she sighs with relief. It’s silent, as usual, and it’s a blessing, quite frankly. She loves the girls, of course she does, but sometimes she really needs the peace and quiet a Wednesday evening can offer.

She slips off her shoes and discards her handbag on the floor, promising herself she’ll come back and move them later. (She probbaly won’t, and Stacie will end up doing it for her.)

Chloe knows Beca is home — her classes finish at lunchtime on a Wednesday — but it’s not unusual that the brunette isn’t there to greet her. She comes down occasionally, if the brunette is in a good mood or has exciting news. Chloe has never thought much of it; she chooses to simply surprise Beca in her room most days.

But today, she would really have appreciated a warm welcome.

She can feel herself getting more annoyed by the second, but she knows she has no valid reason, so she tries to stay calm. It’s difficult, especially since her mood is worse than it’s been in a long time, but she tries. It’s not like she can go up to Beca in a strop. That definitely wouldn’t go down well.

Forcing a smile — she’s heard before that if you fake a smile it’ll turn real eventually — Chloe ascends the stairs, desperate to finally see her best friend.

Beca can always make her feel better, no matter what.

As she pushes open the door quietly, she sees the brunette hunched over her on her bed, books strewn across the bed. Chloe then sees the earbuds, firmly planted inside her ears.

This makes her annoyance rise.

If it was any of the other Bellas, Stacie perhaps, or even Fat Amy, Chloe wouldn’t mind. She’d just tap them on the shoulder, they’d pull out the earphone and they would talk.

But not Beca.

Beca rarely takes out her earphones. Whenever Chloe looks over at her, it’s almost guaranteed she will see at least one bud nestled in her ear. It’s annoying, because it means she constantly has to repeat herself to catch Beca’s attention, and now _really_ isn’t the time for that.

Chloe can’t help the frown that appears on her face as she enters the room. All she’s asking for is a cuddle and a movie with her best friend. Is that too much to ask? She can’t count the number of times she’s soothed away Beca’s bad days, caring for her until she felt better.

So why can’t Beca just do the same for her, just this once?

“Beca,” Chloe says softly, approaching the brunette’s bed. She gets no response. Not even a flinch. “Beca,” she repeats, a little louder this time. Again, nothing.

Chloe can feel the frustration building up inside her, bubbling in her veins. Tears well up in the corners of her eyes because she’s so _tired_ and just wants to talk to her best fucking friend. A sudden burst of rage washes over her, so she reaches out and wraps her hand round the white cord, yanking the earbuds from Beca’s ears as she does so.

The brunette’s eyes widen and she immediately whips round, her bottom lip trembling. Her expression relaxes a fraction, but her shoulder stay tense, like she’s ready to run any second.

This only annoys Chloe further, because why does Beca look so sad when she’s the one that’s had the day from hell?

“Uh, hi Chlo,” Beca mumbles, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as she offers a weak smile.

“You always have your fucking earphones in, Beca! Jeez, can’t you just leave them out for one fucking second?” Chloe explodes, her face flushing immediately. She throws hands round wildly to emphasises her point, anger rolling off her in waves.

Beca flinches in fright, scrambling back against her headboard. She pulls her legs to her chest and buries her head in her knees, her hair falling over her face in like a curtain.

Chloe’s slightly taken aback at the reaction, but doesn’t find herself calming down. “God Beca, really? Can’t you think of other people for once? I’ve had such a shitty day! I just want to come and cuddle with my best friend and I find you sat with your fucking earphones in, again! You couldn’t even hear me!” Her hands are shaking now, her face so red it practically matches the colour of her hair.

Beca whimpers and peers cautiously through her fingers, tears rolling down her cheeks when she sees Chloe’s angry expression.

It’s so unlike Chloe to get angry like this; she can’t even remember the last time it happened. But she doesn’t talk about her emotions much, instead choosing to keep on a brave face and be the strong one for everyone else. Chloe supposes an outburst like this is well overdue.

“I’m sorry,” Beca whispers, her quiet sobs shaking her small frame. Chloe just glares at her icily, her lips set in a thin line. She just can’t find any sympathy inside herself, and it scares her, quite frankly.

“I bet you’re not really,” the redhead says, scoffing. “You’ll just put that earbud straight back in your ear as though nothing happened. What do you even listen to, anyway?” Chloe grabs Beca’s phone from the bed, ignoring the small cry that escapes the brunette’s lips. She presses the home button, expecting to find a pop or rock song.

Instead, she sees, _‘Relaxation Track for Anxiety’._

The anger seeps out of her like blood from an open wound, and her face pales. She drops Beca’s phone back into the bed and takes a step back, a hand shooting up to cover her mouth as she gasps softly.

“Beca, I’m so sorry,” Chloe starts, wincing as she watches tears roll down her Beca’s cheeks. She takes a step forwards, now angry at herself for getting so mad. “I shouldn’t have assumed and I just... God, I feel like such an idiot.” She bows her head, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

She hadn’t thought it was possible for her day to get any worse, but she was obviously wrong.

Beca looks up and stares at her through tear-blurred eyes. “It’s okay,” she says softly, shrugging. Her expression is one of calm, but Chloe can see the shake of her fingers as she digs her nails into her thigh.

“It’s not! I took all my anger out on you and I am so sorry.” Chloe takes a step closer, itching to pull her best friend into a tight hug. But she doesn’t, not just yet. She knows Beca appreciates space when she’s upset.

“It was a logical assumption.”

“But it was _wrong_. I always tell myself not to assume things about people but I did! And now I’ve hurt the one person I care about the most.” Chloe sobs softly, too upset at herself to make eye contact with Beca. The duvet rustles, then the bed creaks.

Beca pads over to where Chloe is standing and takes the redhead’s hands in hers. She focuses on breathing deeply, willing herself not to start panicking. “Chloe, I’m sorry too. I should have told you before, instead of letting it get to this stage.”

“Becs, it really isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you at all.” Chloe tentatively wraps her arms around Beca and buries her head in her neck. She inhales, concentrating on the smell of the brunette’s lavender shampoo.

Beca pulls away and looks up at Chloe, chewing her bottom lip anxiously between her teeth. “I-I’d like to, um, tell you about, uh...” She trails off and gestures vaguely towards where her phone is lying on her bed.

Chloe nods silently. She can see how much Beca’s struggling, how forcefully she’s pinching the skin between her thumb and forefinger. Her heart aches, because how has she not noticed all this before? She feels like a lousy friend.

As they both sit down on the bed, Chloe hands Beca her phone and earbuds, gesturing for her to put one in. “Are-are you sure?” The brunette stares at her questioningly, fingers fiddling with the white wire. Chloe just nods, smiling gently at the sigh of relief it elicits from Beca.

The change in behaviour is almost immediate. Beca’s shoulders relax, and her fingers stop trembling. She pulls her legs up into her chest and leans against the headboard, pausing briefly to change the track on her phone.

Chloe stays silent, knowing Beca will speak when she’s ready.

“It started when I was about eleven, I think. I remember my first panic attack. It happened in the classroom, and I remember my teacher telling me to “grow up and get over it”. I never told anyone after that. I thought... I thought I’d be okay, you know? Before I found these tracks, I just couldn’t do anything. I could barely leave my house. I couldn’t... I didn’t know what to do.

“I came across these relaxation tracks though, maybe three years ago? They really help, but I have to listen to them constantly for it to work. That’s why I always have an earbud in. I-I know it looks rude, but I just—I just can’t help it. It’s either that or have panic attacks multiple times a day, and I know which one I’d choose.” Beca looks down at her hands and lets her eyelids flutter closed, taking a deep breath in through her nose, and releasing it through her mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chloe doesn’t add the _“I thought we were friends”_ , but she knows Beca will have heard her think it. Beca’s like that.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I was worried you’d think I was weak.” Beca laughs humourlessly, and Chloe’s heart aches.

“I’m so sorry, Becs. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.” She pauses to think. “But, uh, do you think you should maybe go and see someone? They could help you.”

Beca’s eyes widen, and Chloe can see her turn up the volume of the track. She winces. _Okay, clearly not the best thing to say._ “I didn’t mean to... I just... I think it could help you, Becs. You deserve to live a life free of your anxiety. You don’t deserve to be glued to your earphones all the time because you can’t bear to be away from them.”

“Chlo, I’ve dealt with it alone for ten years. I think I’m doing fine.”

“But are you?”

Beca’s face falls at that, and she sighs reluctantly. “I guess not,” she mumbles, wiping away a falling tear.

“I could come with you, if you like?” Chloe offers, smiling hopefully. She wants to be there for her best friend and make up for all the time she wasn’t. If she had known earlier, things could have been different. But she didn’t, so now she has to make up for it by doing that extra bit more now.

“Really? You’d do that for me?” Beca seems so surprised Chloe’s almost offended. She just smiles easily and nods, scooting closer to the brunette on the bed.

Chloe takes one of Beca’s slightly clammy hands in her own and strokes it soothingly. “Of course I’ll come with you, Becs.”

“Thank you.” Beca surges forwards and wraps her arms around Chloe’s neck, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as she does so. Chloe’s heart fills with love and warmth as she holds Beca tightly, desperately wishing the brunette’s worries away.


	76. kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #76:  
> Where Chloe snapchats Beca from the vet clinic after a litter of kittens gets dropped off and Chloe has been wanting a kitten for awhile, so she texts Beca about the kittens and to really convince Beca to let her bring one home, she snapchats the video of the kitten meowing.. the Kitten she's already named.. because let's face it, Chloe would 100% name it already, and she calls him Neville because she knows Beca is a secret Harry Potter fan and would be unable to say no to little Nev after his tiny meows :P — _asked by @ladygaybeale on tumblr_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my god, i enjoyed writing this! it is pure fluff. there’s not an ounce of anything else. i hope you all enjoy it!

As soon as Chloe hears about the litter of kittens that’s apparently been dropped off, she drops everything — including her mug full of hot coffee — and runs to the office. She bursts into the room, startling all of her colleagues.

“Where are they?!” She bounces over to Aubrey, her best friend, who winces as soon she’s grabbed enthusiastically by the biceps.

“In Room C. We’re trying to work out what we’re going to do with them,” Aubrey explains, carefully prying Chloe’s fingers from her arms. She watches fondly as the redhead squeals, her hands flying up to cup her cheeks. Even after twenty years of friendship, she still finds Chloe’s excitement over animals adorable.

Aubrey can tell how desperate Chloe is to go and see them, but she has an appointment in five minutes. They both know it’ll take her a lot longer than that. Chloe becomes inseparable from any small creature after a solid thirty seconds; Aubrey can’t count the number of times she’s physically had to drag the redhead away from kittens and puppies.

“Go on, go see them. I’ll cover your 11:30.” Aubrey grins as she’s engulfed in a tight hug, her chest constricting.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much Bree! I owe you one!” Chloe squeezes her tightly once more before she pulls away, turning abruptly on her heel. The redhead flies out of the door in the blink of an eye, leaving Aubrey smiling behind her.

Chloe tries to tamp down her excitement as she pushes open the door, not wanting to freak the little balls of fur out. As soon as she lays eyes on them, her joy overflows, spilling out of her mouth in the form of a sharp squeal.

She rushes over to the litter, a soft aww escaping her lips as her eyes soften and her heart melts. They’re all black, but their paws are dipped in white, like little socks. They’re  _adorable_.

Chloe spots one kitten, tucked slightly behind the others. It’s pushed into the corner of the bed, it’s paws covering its eyes. It’s smaller, and clearly the weakest of the litter. Chloe’s eyes fill with sympathy. The soft meow it releases tugs at her heart strings and she wants it _so much_.

Being careful not to startle the tiny thing, she lifts it’s legs to check the gender. A boy. An awfully sneaky thought enters her mind, and she _really_ tries to ignore it, but it’s impossible when he’s staring up at her with those big wide eyes.

Chloe decides she absolutely has to persuade Beca that they need a kitten, because let’s face it, she’s not walking out of this room without claiming him as hers. She’s wanted a kitten for a while now, but has been too apprehensive to ask Beca, since she doesn’t think her girlfriend even likes animals.

Another timid mewl escapes the kitten’s lips, and Chloe knows she has to at least _try_. She even has a perfect name already: Neville. It’s not a secret that Beca Mitchell is a closeted Harry Potter nerd, and Chloe knows the brunette has always had a soft spot for the boy.

Mind made up, Chloe pulls her phone out of her back pocket and loads Snapchat. Time to start persuading Beca to agree to keeping Neville. She lifts the tiny kitten from the bed and sets him down on the table, her thumb hovering over the screen as she gets ready to video him.

As soon as she starts the video, Neville releases a string of meows. Chloe aww’s from behind her phone, lifting a finger to try and get Neville's wide eyes to follow it.

The quiet meows cease a few seconds later, and Chloe lifts her thumb off the screen. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she types out a quick caption, hoping it’ll melt Beca’s heart. It reads: _“please let mommy bring me homeeee”_. Chloe hopes it’ll seem like that’s what Neville was meowing. (She firmly believes that, and doesn’t care what anyone else says.)

Chloe places her phone down next to her to play with Neville while she waits for a reply. Even at work, Beca usually replies to her messages quickly, so she expects a Snapchat back within five minutes.

She’s not disappointed.

Two minutes later, her phone chimes, signalling that she’s received a Snapchat. Her heart beats a little faster as she loads the message, desperately hoping it’ll be one of approval.

She opens it up to see a photo of Beca grinning, accompanied with _“i am **so** leaving work early! i’ll grab chinese on the way back too. can’t wait to meet our fluffy son  <3”._

Chloe squeals and almost drops her phone, overjoyed at the news. Neville will actually be theirs. She’s getting a cat with her girlfriend. An adorable black kitten with the woman she loves. Her heart swells, filling with the immense love she holds for Beca.

She stares down at Neville, her gaze soft. She reaches out to stroke him, relishing in the feel of his silky fur. He’s actually going to be theirs.

* * *

When Chloe gets home, a cat transport box tucked safely under her arm, Beca isn't there. It's hardly surprising, because it's only four thrity and Beca usually only gets home between six and seven. Chloe doesn't exactly know how when her girlfriend is getting back, because she's really excited to show her Neville.

Chloe carefully sets out the small cat bed she bought, along with the wide range of both squeaky and fluffy toys. (She had to, okay?) Once everything is arranged to perfection in the corner of their bedroom, she brings the carrier into the room and opens the door. Neville stumbles out, still a little shaky on his paws. Chloe can't believe he's already nine weeks old; you'd never be able to tell from his size.

"Come on Nev, let's get you settled." Chloe scoops the tiny kitten up in her arms and cradles him to her chest. He meows quietly as he nuzzles his little head into her cleavage, curling in on himself as he settles down. The redhead strokes his back slowly, internally dying with happiness. He's just _so cute_ and _so soft._

She walks to their couch and sits down, Neville still cuddled into her chest. She kicks off her flats, careful not to jostle the ball of fluff in her arms. Chloe finds she's actually pretty tired; too much excitement always drains her more quickly than usual. (You can never be too excited though.) Her eyelids slowly flutter closed as she leans back, her shoulders relaxing.

* * *

Chloe's woken by a few jabs to her ribs, the touch clumsy and certainly not careful. Beca. Only Beca wakes her like that.

She's about to grumble in complaint and go back to sleep, but then she remembers Neville, and her eyes fly wide open. "Becs!" She half yells, springing off the couch to launch herself at her girlfriend. She's met with a gentle hand pressed against her chest, stopping her from wrapping Beca up in a hug.

Chloe's about to protest, but then she looks down and sees Neville nestled into Beca's chest, and her heart melts into a puddle of warm liquid. A slow smile spreads across her lips, her eyes twinkling with love. "What do you think?" The words come out a little nervously, even though it's obvious Beca's just as in love with the little creature as she is.

"I _love_ him," Beca whispers, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to Chloe's pink lips.

"Aw Becs, you're such a softie." Chloe pinches one of her girlfriend's cheeks, giggling gently when Beca scrunches her nose up in protest. She doesn't complain verbally though, so Chloe takes it as a victory.


	77. fridge magnets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #77:  
> Chloe is a school teacher for kindergarten and has alphabet magnets for the fridge.. she leaves a message on the fridge for Beca to get more milk and Beca replies with the magnets say no.. but really she does.. and she buys flowers too because she knows Chloe won't be impressed with her response — _asked by @ladygaybeale on tumblr_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this started really soft and fluffy and ended up angsty? sorry about that i don’t even know what happened. i think my fingers slipped?

Beca’s alone when she wakes up.

It’s hardly surprising, because Chloe has to be at work for eight o’clock — Beca _really_ doesn’t understand why since school starts at nine thirty but apparently it’s to “set things up” — and it’s currently just past ten.

She rolls over in bed, snuggling deeper into the mattress as she cocoons herself in the duvet. There’s a certain beauty to days off work. And to waking up, legs tangled in the sheets, eyes blurry with sleep.

But it’s not the same without Chloe. Nothing ever is. Chloe completes her, makes her feel full, loved, comforted, happy. Around Chloe, she can be herself. She doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to put on a facade, doesn’t have to raise her walls.

It’s almost scary how vulnerable she is around her, but there’s just something about the bubbly redhead that calms her. Chloe’s personality is _far_ from calm — it’s the exact opposite, in fact — but her soft touches and whispered words of support make Beca just _melt_.

Beca doesn’t know how the hell she managed to get a woman like Chloe Beale. Chloe is sunshine, happiness and all things good in the world. Beca, on the other hand, is definitely not. She’s moody, withdrawn and can frankly be a bit of a dick. Or at least she used to be.

Chloe’s changed her, and she _loves_ it.

The brunette remembers her antisocial freshman self with embarrassment, wondering how the hell she’d managed to get that far with those unbreakable walls.

But Chloe Beale had done the impossible and had torn them down.

Beca loves that Chloe never gave up on her. She didn’t give up when she pushed her away, countless times. Didn’t give up when she screamed at her and told her she never wanted to see her again. Didn’t give up when she rejected her the very first time they’d kissed. She never gave up. And Beca can honestly say she wouldn’t be in this world without Chloe.

Beca sighs softly as she props herself up in bed and reaches for her phone. She turns it on and smiles to see a message from Chloe at the top.

**Chlo:** _Morning Becs! Hope you slept well, enjoy your day off. Love you <3 p.s. check the fridge!! xoxox_

Swiping across, Beca begins tapping out a reply, her morning significantly improved now she’s received a message from her girlfriend.

 **Becs:** _hi chlo, hope the little ones aren’t too naughty for you today! can’t wait for you to get home. i really miss you :( but i love you too, maybe even more <3_

Once she’s sent the reply, Beca reluctantly slides out of bed, curious about why she needs to “check the fridge”. It’s common that Chloe will write out messages on it with her alphabet magnets, so she wonders what it’ll say today.

(Beca has told her girlfriend time and time again that they’re stupid, but they were a gift from a little girl in her class, and Chloe had found the gesture so sweet she just had to put them to good use. So now Beca’s resigned herself to walking into the kitchen to see messages spelt out with the multicoloured letters. She _definitely_ doesn’t think it’s cute. It’s annoying, _definitely_ annoying.)

The brunette pads through to the tiny kitchen, yawning as she throws her hair up into a messy bun. She looks straight over to the fridge, the brightly coloured message catching her eye.

 **bUy moRE mILK** , it reads, the words made up of a range of both upper and lowercase letters. Beca scrunches her nose up; why should _she_ buy the milk? She doesn’t even like milk. Chloe is the one who drinks it.

Beca smirks, a cheeky thought sneaking into her mind. She walks over to the fridge and begins arranging some of the spare letters. She grins triumphantly at the finished product. **NO fuCk u**. It’ll _really_ piss Chloe off, because the redhead loves a cup of coffee as soon as she walks through the door after work.

The brunette just shrugs and goes about making herself a coffee (she drinks hers black). Time to relax.

* * *

It’s three forty-five, and Beca knows Chloe will be home at _exactly_ four. She’s relaxed all day; she caught up on the recent episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, done some mixing and she even tidied up a bit.

Although she hates to admit it, she feels bad about her message on the fridge. It’s funny, of course it is, but she can’t bear the thought of Chloe getting in from work, tired after a long day, looking forward to her coffee, only to find out that there’s no milk.

Barden University Beca Mitchell wouldn’t give two shits, but it’s been four years since they left Barden, and a lot has changed.

She is, dare she say, soft. The more she thinks about it the more embarrassing it becomes, but she wouldn’t change a thing. Chloe has her wrapped round her finger so tightly and she can’t even find it in herself to care.

Grumbling softly under her breath, Beca rises from the couch and heads to the front door. She slips on her shoes and coat as she grabs her car keys, hoping to go out and get back before Chloe gets home.

She simply _cannot_ be late. Chloe will kill her.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Beca is still sat in traffic. Chloe’s going to arrive back at their apartment in five minutes, and she hasn’t even reached the shop yet. Time is running out, and she’s definitely not going to make it.

Beca finally arrives at the shop five minutes later, just as the clock hits four. She winces as she stares at the time, knowing she’s going to be in big trouble when she gets back. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she digs out her wallet. Stupidly, she’s left her credit card at home, and she only has ten dollars.

She knows she’s going to have to buy Chloe something to make up for that message on the fridge. She’ll never be able to afford flowers with eight dollars. And Chloe loves flowers. _Fuck_.

This spurs Beca into action, and she runs into the shop, frantically trying to find the milk. As soon as she picks it up, she quickly walks — she definitely doesn’t run — to the flowers. _Fuck fuck fuck they’re ten dollars. I’m two dollars short. God Chloe is going to kill me if I don’t go back with anything._

“Are you okay?” Beca whips round to see an old woman standing beside her, a basket hooked over one arm. She has a warm smile on her face. Beca bets she has grandchildren and is an amazing cook.

“Uh, not really? I messed up and I need to buy my girlfriend some flowers but I only have ten dollars and I _have_ to buy milk.” Beca glares down at the wallet clutched in her right hand, angry at herself for forgetting something as basic as her credit card.

Her phone chimes, and she pulls it out, worried it’s an angry text from Chloe. It is. _Shit shit shit._

 **Chlo:** _Beca Mitchell! I am not impressed. I can’t believe you had the cheek to write that on the fridge! Where the hell are you? I got in, ready for my cup of coffee, only to find out there’s no milk! Get home right now._

Beca winces, quickly shutting off her phone and shoving it back in her pocket. She _really_ needs to get back. It’s already ten past four, and it takes at least five minutes to get home — and that’s if the traffic is good.

“Oh honey, what did you do? Ah, don’t explain. That was a text from her, wasnt it? I’m sure she wants you to get back. Here, take this. Buy the flowers and some chocolates. That should make her happy.” The woman presses a ten dollar bill into Beca’s hand with a warm smile.

The brunette stares for a moment, surprised at the strangers kindness. “I-I don’t know what to say. Normally I’d say I can’t accept it, but I actually really need it, so thank you. Thank you so much,” she breathes, the tightness in her chest loosening slightly.

“It’s my pleasure, darling. Now get home to that girl of yours! I wish you the best of luck,” the woman says sincerely, patting Beca’s arm kindly. It’s a very motherly move, one that makes Beca wistful for a split second.

But then she’s spurred back into action. As the woman walks off, she grabs a bunch of flowers and darts round to choose some chocolates. There’s a long queue, one that Beca really doesn’t have time to stand in, so pushes past and dumps the twenty dollars she has on the counter. The cashier stares at her oddly, but the brunette doesn’t even have time to care.

Beca’s phone chimes again as she runs out to her car, (carefully) throwing the things onto the passenger seat before slotting the keys into the ignition and stepping on the gas.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbles desperately as she waits for a car to pull out in front of her.

Five minutes later, Beca arrives home. She parks haphazardly; she really doesn’t give a shit whether her car is parked in between the goddamn lines or not.

It takes her a minute to sprint up the stairs to their apartment, the flowers, chocolate and milk clutched tightly in her arms. By the time she reaches the door, she’s panting, her chest tight and her cheeks red.

Her arms are too full to try and find her key — if she even remembered it — so she bangs awkwardly on the door with her foot instead. She can’t fight the racing of her heart as she hears footsteps on the other side of the door.

The door is yanked open, revealing a clearly angry Chloe on the other side. She’s still dressed from work, though her feet are bare. Her hair is tousled from where she’s being running her hand through it in frustration. Beca winces.

“Get in here,” Chloe hisses, not even looking at Beca as she grabs her arm and drags her inside. The brunette stumbles a little, still holding the things from the shop to her chest.

“Chloe, look, I’m—”

“Shut up, Beca. It’s my turn to talk.” Beca goes silent, a light blush rising to her cheeks as she ducks her head and waits for Chloe to start shouting. “I get that it’s funny, I mean it is, but it’s less funny when I come home to find no milk, and no you. I wanted some fucking coffee, Beca. You weren’t even here! God you’re so annoying!”

Beca cringes at the words; Chloe rarely swears — except in the bedroom — so to hear her swearing openly means she’s _really_ mad.

“Chloe, I—” Beca starts, trying to hold out the flowers. Chloe doesn’t look at them, only glares icily at her girlfriend. The brunette sighs softly and resigns herself to being shouted at. It was all her fault, so she supposes she deserves it.

“No! I had a really hard day. The kids were messing around and would barely listen to me. All I wanted was to come home, have a cup of coffee and cuddle with you. Now I can’t have either,” Chloe snaps, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Why can’t you ever just be helpful? I do _everything_ round here. I ask you to get some fucking milk and you can’t even do that. God you’re _useless_.”

Beca quietens at that. _Chloe thinks I’m useless?_ Her shoulders sag as she takes a step back, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”

Beca shakes her head silently, keeping her eyes trained at the floor. She doesn’t want Chloe to see the tears rolling down her cheeks; it’ll probably only make her more mad. “Uh, here’s the milk. I got you some flowers and chocolates too.” Beca places the things on the table, making sure not to squash the flowers.

She doesn’t look up as she turns and leaves the room, her stomach twisting. _Chloe probably hates me. I don’t deserve her. She deserves better than a useless piece of shit like me._

After shutting the door behind her, Beca crawls into their bed and presses her nose into her pillow. Chloe’s smell invades her senses. Usually it would bring a sense of warmth and love to her, but now it only reminds her of the upset she’s caused. The warmth inside her isn’t nice anymore, it’s a fire, burning uncontrollably inside her, destroying everything in its path.

Beca’s shoulders shake as sobs wrack through her body. Tears stream down her cheeks as she curls into the fetal position and wraps her arms around her stomach.

Through her sobs, she doesn’t hear the door opening. Chloe creeps in, faint tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. Her expression is one of misery and guilt as she walks towards their bed and pulls back the covers.

The redhead slides under the duvet and shifts closer to Beca, her heart breaking at the sound of her girlfriend’s pained cries. “Becs?” She places a cautious hand on Beca’s arm, wincing slightly as the brunette flinches.

Beca turns her head to stare at Chloe. “Yeah?” She croaks, her voice still wet with tears. Chloe’s heart breaks as her girlfriend sniffs, her nose blocked from her heavy crying.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” This time when Chloe’s hand lands on Beca’s arm, she doesn’t flinch. She allows the touch, and even lets herself lean into it slightly.

“It’s fine. I get it.”

“No, Beca, I shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. It was totally out of order. I just had a hard day and took it out on you, and I’m sorry.” Chloe rubs soothing circles on Beca’s arms as tears start to roll down her cheeks, hating that she’s caused her girlfriend so much pain. “You’re amazing, and I don’t wish for anyone else. You’re anything but useless. That—That was a horrid thing for me to say. God, I’m— I don’t even know what to say. I love you, Becs.”

Chloe’s crying by the time she finishes. The two women cry openly, both their hearts aching. Beca snuggles into the redhead’s embrace, pressing her nose against her collarbone. This time, Chloe’s scent is warmth and loving, just like it usually is.

“I love you too, and I’m sorry. I should have gone to get the milk sooner.”

“No, I overreacted. Your response was actually hilarious, and thank you for buying me flowers _and_ chocolates. You really didn’t have to,” Chloe says softly, her heart full.

“I wanted to,” Beca replies, tilting her head up to press a chaste kiss to the redhead’s lips. “Besides, I kinda anticipated the shouting.”

Chloe laughs quietly, leaning down to kiss Beca again. This time she doesn’t pull away, and instead wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and pulls her closer.

“God, you’re amazing,” she mumbles against Beca’s lips, running a hand through her hair comfortingly.

“Not as amazing as you.” Beca grins, and before Chloe can protest, she presses their lips together once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special mention to b99 because it’s the shit™ and y’all really need to stop sleeping on it.


	78. lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #78:  
> pure smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okAY, before you get excited, let me just warn you all. **this is my first time writing smut.** i’ve been told this is “more than good”, but i’m just saying, please don’t hate on me! i _tried_ and if it sucks, i’ll never write smut again.
> 
> also i didn’t really know what to call this so i’m going with “lace” because chloe has a lacy bra *shrugs*
> 
> also, **let me know if this should be rated explicit** because i don’t want to mis-rate my fic!
> 
> and without further ado, enjoy.

Chloe’s bored. She’s bored and she’s just a little bit turned on. She’s supposed to be writing her essay for her Psychology class — it’s due in tomorrow — but she just can’t focus. Beca keeps swimming into her mind, coaxing her further and further away from getting anything done.

It’s four o’clock, which means Beca’s probably in her room relaxing. Chloe knows ended at two, so she’s definitely not busy. She debates whether to go and see Beca; she doesn’t like to take care of herself now she has her girlfriend.

Beca is _more_ than capable in bed.

Mind made up, Chloe pushes back and chair and rises. She tugs her hair free from its restraint and shakes her head, letting it fall in looose curls down her back. Beca likes it this way. Chloe then swaps her plain nude bra and panties for lacy blue ones, smirking as she remembers the first time she’d shown Beca.

* * *

_“Becs, what do you think?” Chloe’s standing in front of Beca, a silky robe wrapped round her muscular body. Beca looks up from her mixing equipment for a split second before looking back down again.  
_

_“Haven’t you had that ages?”_

_“No, not that. This,” Chloe says, pulling apart the robe. It falls open to reveal the electric blue underwear set — she’d bought the bra a size too small so it pushed up her boobs a little more than usual. (Chloe deems it an excellent decision judging by the drop of Beca’s jaw as she swivels back round.)_

_“You—Chloe, I’m... oh my god,” Beca stutters, dragging her eyes up and down Chloe’s toned body. She drinks in full breasts encased in the small bra, her eyes darkening with lust. Her jaw drops even more at the tiny panties, barely covering Chloe’s pussy. “Fuck.”_

_Chloe yelps as Beca surges forward and pushes her against the wall, but she certainly doesn’t complain as the brunette begins attacking her mouth with fervour._

* * *

Chloe grins at the memory, find it’s dampened her panties even more. Time to go to Beca.

She then redresses so the underwear is a surprise, knowing Beca will appreciate it. She then slips from her room and walks into Beca’s. Her girlfriend is sat on her bed watching Netflix, a small smile on her face.

Chloe wastes no time in walking forwards, her iris’ almost blocked out by her pupils. “Hey Becs,” she greets, her voice an octave lower than usual. Beca looks up in surprise and hits the pause button, letting out an involuntary groan at the sight of her girlfriend’s lust-darkened eyes. She knows exactly what’s coming.

Chloe drops onto the bed and crawls on the bed forward, wrapping her arms loosely round Beca’s neck. She presses her lips to the brunette’s, a soft moan slipping past her lips as Beca immediately slips her tongue into her mouth.

“Ugh, fuck,” Chloe groans, tilting her head backwards as Beca starts nipping at her jaw, trailing her lips down the pulse point on her neck. “How much— _god, Becs_ —how much time do we have?” The words are desperate and breathy and laced with need. She needs Beca, _now_.

“More than enough,” is the mumbled response. Beca sucks lightly on Chloe’s neck, swirling her tongue over the skin simultaneously to soothe the pain.

Netflix forgotten, Beca shuts her laptop and pushes it away, too focused on keeping her lips attached to Chloe’s neck to worry about it falling off the bed. She pushes herself up and flips Chloe round so she’s trapped underneath her. Beca presses herself closer to her girlfriend’s body, arousal flooding through her body as Chloe slots a leg between her thighs.

“Oh my _god_ , Chlo.” Beca tears her lips away to rip off her t-shirt, revealing her lacy black bra and toned stomach. (All that cardio has really paid off.)

“Bec, please can you—I need more,” Chloe whines as her hips buck upwards. She reaches up and unclasps Beca’s bra, gasping lustily as she brushes her thumbs over the brunette’s nipples. Beca throws her head back and moans, her cheeks flushing as her panties become soaked.

Desperate to feel Chloe’s skin, she bats her hands away — even though the loss of contact pains her — and pulls her girlfriend’s shirt over her head. “Oh _fuck_ , you know what this does to me,” Beca pants, pausing to admire Chloe. But then the redhead whimpers impatiently, and the lacy blue bra is quickly taken off and flung across the room too.

Beca’s mouth descends on one of Chloe’s breasts, drawing the pert nipple into her mouth and sucking gently. Chloe arches her back upwards, pushing her body into the contact. Her eyes roll back into her head as a string of throaty moans leave her mouth.

“Beca, I need you. I need you to _fuck_ me,” Chloe groans as she grabs the brunette by the neck and smashes their lips together. Beca hisses as their teeth clink, the kiss hungry and passionate. She palms Chloe’s breasts desperately, itching to rid herself of her clothes.

“Just—” Beca stops mid sentence to unbutton her jeans. She shimmies out of them as quickly as possible as Chloe takes the opportunity to do the same. Beca growls, ripping off her girlfriend’s underwear. “Fuck, Chlo, you look so good.”

Chloe stares at her through hooded eyes, lust clouding the dazzling cerulean orbs. She grabs Beca by the wrist and guides her hand down her stomach, whimpering breathlessly at the light touch. Beca watches, lips parted with lust as Chloe drags her fingers through her soaked folds. A high-pitched moan slips past her lips as she cants her hips upwards.

“What are you waiting for?” Chloe whispers huskily, releasing Beca’s wrist so she can tangle her fingers in the brunette’s hair instead. Beca draws her bottom lip between her teeth to stop herself groaning at the sight of Chloe’s glistening pussy.

She’s  _soaked_ , and the further dampening of her own panties only reminds her how wet she is.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, Beca slides her fingers through Chloe’s folds. She brushes her thumb over the redhead’s stiffened clit, eliciting a loud, throaty moan. “Fuck me, Beca. Make me cum, _please_ ,” Chloe sobs, her body writhing on the bed as Beca continues to tease her.

Chloe looks so perfect lying underneath her, begging, that Beca can’t hold off any longer. She pushes two fingers into Chloe and groans as the redhead’s pussy clenches. “God, Chlo, you’re so tight,” Beca mumbles, thrusting quickly into her girlfriend.

Chloe nods frantically and moans, arching off the bed as she rocks her hips to meet Beca’s thrusts. Beca leans up and captures Chloe’s lips, muffling the string of moans that follow as she adds a third finger. She drags her lips down to Chloe’s neck and sucks hard, biting and licking at the sensitive skin.

Beca brushes her lips against Chloe’s ear as she pulls away. “I want to make you cum.”

“I’m so close,” Chloe sobs, working her hips faster as Beca’s palm collides with her clit. Beca speeds up her thrusts as she rubs her thumb onto Chloe’s clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud.

“You look so hot, baby. I’m so wet.” Beca grinds her own hips down into the bed, searching for some friction to relieve her throbbing clit. But no, now is about Chloe.

As she leans down to claim Chloe’s lips, she feels teeth tugging at her ear. “Fuck, Becs, I’m so close,” she whispers the words nearly incoherent through her moans. Beca pumps her fingers in out rapidly, relishing in the feeling of Chloe’s tight, clenching pussy.

Beca presses her thumb directly onto Chloe’s clit and smirks as the redhead’s legs begin to shake. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” Chloe’s eyes roll back into her head as a throaty _fuck_ falls from her lips, her orgasm slamming into her. Her scream is muffled by Beca’s lips, her thrusting never ceasing.

“I can’t, Becs, I can’t.” Chloe’s head thrashes from side to side as she rides out the orgasm, still rocking her hips frantically to meet Beca’s thrusts.

“Yes you can baby, cum again.” As soon as Beca leans down and sucks Chloe’s clit into her mouth, the redhead comes again. Her scream echoes round the room as Beca’s name falls from her lips over and over.

As soon as Chloe’s recovered, she flips Beca over and captures her lips in a passionate kiss. “Now it’s your turn,” she whispers, sliding her hand below the waistband of her girlfriend’s panties.

“ _God_ , Chlo, you’re going to be the death of me,” Beca moans, arching her back as Chloe’s fingers slide through her sopping folds.

“Good.” Chloe winks at Beca as slams three fingers into her, eliciting a high-pitched moan. “Good,” she repeats, pressing her thumb to the brunette’s clit.

Beca sobs in arousal and squirms, the touch almost sending over the edge. Chloe spreads her girlfriend’s legs wider so she can get a better view. The sight of Beca’s glistening pussy makes her wet once more, and she suddenly has an idea.

She pulls her fingers from Beca’s pussy quickly, ignore the desperate whine she receives at the loss of contact. Chloe lifts herself up and angles her body, extending her left leg over Beca’s right one.

“Fuck.” The two women moan in tandem as their pussies meet, the touch of flesh absolutely _perfect_. “Holy shit, Chlo... I’m—I’m gonna cum.” Chloe grabs Beca’s leg and bucks against it, sobbing at the brushing of their clits.

“God, Becs, fuck, I’m... _fuck_ ,” she mumbles, picking up the pace as she rolls her hips quickly. Beca’s already on edge from Chloe’s earlier teasing and, after grabbing the redhead’s leg, screams as she comes. Chloe follows seconds later, frantically rocking her hips back and forth.

Beca sags first, her body flopping boneless into the bed. Chloe untangles their legs and drops beside her, both panting heavily. “Oh my god, that was... That was incredible,” Beca mumbles, turning her head into Chloe’s shoulder.

Chloe nods sleepily and grins, leaning over to connect their lips. The kiss is soft and slow, a reflection of their undying love for each other. “I love you,” she whispers, her eyelids beginning to flutter shut.

“I love you too.” Beca yawns sleepily and snuggles into Chloe’s side, falling asleep almost immediately with a faint smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE DON’T BE SHY I REALLY NEED TO KNOW WHETHER I SHOULD NEVER WRITE SMUT AGAIN


	79. stage fright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #79:  
> a timeline of the bellas peformances showing the growth of Beca and chloe's friendsip (and eventually relationship) through beca's stage fright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sO i have this posted as a separate fic with each performances broken down into chapters, but since it's done, i thought i'd post it as a oneshot on here. i wrote this for my friend shannon who prompted it, and it was so fun to write. enjoy!
> 
> (it's a long one, so buckle up.)
> 
> also **huge tw for panic attacks**

**ICCA Regionals —**

 

Aubrey is freaking out.

The Bellas are _really_ not ready for this performance, Beca is nowhere to be seen, and she’s pretty sure she’s going to be sick. Just like last time.

Chloe’s hurriedly fixing Fat Amy’s collar, complaining softly that she really needs to start taking care of her appearance a little more. Cynthia-Rose is trying to encourage Stacie to unbutton her blouse just a little bit more, and Jessica — or Ashley, no one has a clue — is still fiddling around with her hair.

They’re supposed to be on stage in five minutes, and Beca is _still_ nowhere to be seen.

Aubrey fights back angry tears as she impulsively smoothes down her skirt. This is their first performance with her as the captain, and it’s already a complete disaster. “Chloe Beale! Why the _hell_ is Beca? We’re going on in four minutes!”

Chloe looks up, her small frown morphing into an expression of complete panic. She nods at Aubrey, knowing her frantic yell was code for “go and find her” and runs off towards their dressing room.

Her heels click loudly on the linoleum floor as she runs, arms waving out beside her so she doesn’t lose her balance. She reaches their assigned room in thirty seconds — a personal best — but she’s slightly flushed and out of breath, so she supposes it’s not really that much of a victory.

Chloe flings open the door, her cerulean eyes wide as she scans the room for Beca. She’s about to leave, the worry of letting Aubrey down already rising inside her, when she spots a small body in the corner of the room.

“Beca? Beca are you okay?” She rushes over to the brunette’s trembling frame, and falls down onto her knees. The quiet crack as she hits the floor is audible, but neither that, or the pain, are at the forefront of her mind.

Worry fills Chloe’s eyes as her brain whirs, trying to figure out what to do. Beca is shaking like a leaf, curled into a tiny ball against the wall. “Beca?”

Beca raises her head slowly, her dark eyes wide with fright. It only takes Chloe a second to realise that the brunette’s hyperventilating, her breaths panicked and sporadic. Thick tears roll down her now-flushed cheeks, carving trenches into her skin. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but no words come out.

Chloe can recognise a panic attack when she sees one, and she’s read about them, but she’s never actually dealt with one. In her slightly frenzied state, she tries to cast her mind back to one of her insomnia-induced learning sessions.

She knows the most important thing is to calm Beca’s breathing, and tell her that she’s okay. And fast. (They _really_ have to leave because they have to be on stage in three minutes.)

“Beca? Can you hear me?” After receiving a jerky nod in response, Chloe offers a warm smile. “Can you breathe with me, Beca? In for four, hold for four, out for four, okay?” Beca nods again and closes her eyes as she tries to follow Chloe’s breathing pattern.

Moments later, it doesn’t seem to be working, so Chloe figures that just talking isn’t enough. “Can I touch you?” Another nod. She reaches out and holds Beca’s wrist loosely, careful not to frighten her with the pressure. Chloe then takes the brunette’s palm and presses it against her own chest, hoping that feeling her steady heartbeat will help her match the rhythm. 

“In,” Chloe encourages, breathing with Beca at the same time, “and out,” she finishes. They repeat it a few more times, and, though the younger woman still looks extremely shaken, her breathing is slow and steady.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words Beca says, guilt twisting in her stomach. She hates that Chloe had to see that, see her breakdown like that. It’s embarrassing. 

Chloe’s already kind expression softens further, her eyes melting. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she soothes, rubbing small circles on the hand still pressed to her chest.

“I, um, have stage fright,” Beca confesses sheepishly, ducking her head. She gently pulls her hand from Chloe’s chest and stares down at it, the skin tingling from the contact.

“Oh Beca, why didn’t you say something?”

Beca shrugs silently. Chloe pauses, wondering if an explanation will follow, but it doesn’t. “Is it just before? Or is it on stage as well?”

“Just before. I’ll be fine.” Beca’s voice is still a little shaky, and Chloe wonders if the brunette is considering pulling out. (She doesn’t like to think like that, but according to Aubrey, it would be “a very Beca thing to do”. Aubrey doesn’t even know Beca that well, so Chloe figures her best friend is just making it up.)

“Okay, good,” Chloe says cautiously. “Um, if it’s okay, we _really_ have to go. Aubrey is going to kill us if we’re not there in,” she pauses to glance at the clock on the wall, “forty seconds.”

They both rise silently, smoothing out their tight skirts. Chloe offers a small smile at Beca, watching with sympathy as the small girl’s legs shake slightly.

“Let’s go.” Chloe ushers the brunette out of the dressing room, nerves bubbling up inside her as she breaks into a run. Beca does the same beside her, too worried about not upsetting Aubrey to remember her earlier fright.

* * *

The performance goes as well as could be expected.

As they all traipse off the stage, leaving the clapping crowd behind, the tension in the air is palpable. She turns on them as soon as they’re safely backstage, her glare verging on murderous. “I cannot _believe_ what just happened. Fat Amy, what the hell were you thinking? And Beca, deciding to show up late like you didn’t give a shit really threw us all!” 

Fat Amy’s smile turns to a frown, and she has the decency to look guilty. She hastily begins to button her shirt back up, suddenly feeling exposed under Aubrey’s glare. “Sorry Aubrey,” she murmurs, earning a sharp nod of acknowledgment in return. 

Then Aubrey turns to a cowering Beca, her eyes narrowed in anger. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The words are harsh, sharp enough to slice through the growing tension. 

Beca shakes her head jerkily and averts her gaze. “Sorry,” she mumbles, staring down at her feet. Chloe tenses beside her, wondering why the brunette doesn’t stick up for herself. She wants to say something to Aubrey, because it’s not right that she doesn’t know the real reason Beca was late. But she’s too scared, and she hates it.

Chloe just offers Beca an apologetic smile and tries not to be hurt when all she receives in response is a blank stare.

 

**ICCA Semi-Finals —**

This time, when Beca is nowhere to be seen, Chloe knows where to look. 

She runs to their dressing room, Aubrey’s frenzied yells echoing after her. Seconds later, she throws open the door, her eyes gravitating immediately to the corner of the room Beca was huddled in before. But, despite scanning the room five times, she finds no trembling brunette.

_Shit._

Chloe spins on her heel and tears down the corridor, her mind whirring frantically. Where else could Beca be? She approaches the ladies' bathroom, desperately hoping Beca's inside. She throws open the door, concern bubbling up inside her as she listens for any sign of the tiny brunette.

The small sob she hears propels her forwards, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She has four minutes to calm Beca down and get her back to the stage, and that's without Aubrey's guaranteed lecture. She sees the brunette, hunched over the sink, her head bowed. As Chloe approaches, she sees a pair of glasses lying on the counter and a small bottle knocked over next to them.

Chloe frowns; she didn't know the brunette wore glasses. But then again, she doesn't know much about her. It's not like she volunteers information willingly. "Beca?" The younger girl's head snaps up, and Chloe can see the tear tracks, glistening in the florescent lighting of the bathroom.

"Oh god, Chloe." The redhead ignores the small spark of warmth that shoots through her at the sheer relief in Beca's expression.

"Are you okay sweetie?" Chloe rushes forwards and cups the brunette's cheeks in her palms. She brushes away the falling tears with her palms, offering a small smile as Beca blushes under the caring touch. "Stage fright again?" Chloe mentally kicks herself as soon as the words leave her mouth; she doesn't really know why she's asking, because that's obviously the reason for the brunette's tears. Beca doesn't seem annoyed by the question though, which is a small relief.

"Yeah," she whispers quietly. "I'm feeling a bit better now though." Beca pulls her head back and glances to the side, nervously avoiding Chloe's gaze. The redhead tries not to focus on the pang of hurt that spreads within her; she doesn't want Beca to be _scared_ of her.

"Good." Chloe takes a step back, unsure of what to say. She glances at the clock and winces. Two minutes. "We should—"

"I know." Beca slips off the counter and smooths down her skirt, double checking that it's pristine. She knows Aubrey will pick up on it; that woman has eyes like a hawk. As she turns to leave, hastily rearranging her hair, Chloe stops her with a gentle hand on her forearm.

"Beca, aren't they your contact lenses?" She gestures to the small pot lying on the side, still full of contact fluid. Beca's shoulders sag slightly as she nods, an expression of slight discomfort settling on her face.

“Yeah.” The brunette doesn’t elaborate, just shrugs one shoulder and turns to leave. Chloe stops her again, a small frown forming on her face.

“Aren’t you going to put them in?”

“Nope. Not wearing them does wonders for my nerves,” Beca explains, her lips quirking upwards in a small smile. Chloe giggles, her hand still placed on the brunette’s arm. Beca blushes as her eyes flick down to their touching skin.

“Can you see okay?” Chloe asks, grinning. Beca just shrugs — she can’t see a thing — and laughs good-naturedly.

The two girls leave the bathroom, giggling as they make their way back down the corridor and towards the stage. The panic of being late is forgotten as Beca pretends to stumble, knocking Chloe into the wall.

Laughter spills from the redhead’s lips, echoing down the hall. The sound causes a faint blush to rise to Beca’s cheeks, because Chloe Beale’s laugh is simply something else.

* * *

Beca ends up adding her own touches to their set, which really pisses Aubrey off. It’s to be expected, because the blonde is uptight like nothing anybody’s ever seen before, and she gets weirdly possessive over organising their songs. Beca just never realised she’d be _this angry._

“Beca! I cannot believe you did that. How _dare_ you!” Aubrey hisses, her eyes blazing as she glares murderously at the small brunette.

Usually Beca would be cowering by now, worried about the consequences of her little stunt, but she just feels angry. Angry that all she does it _try_ , and all she gets in return is rejection after rejection.

She’s tired of it.

“In case you didn’t notice, I made it better! People were practically falling asleep, Aubrey. I don’t know how fucking blind you are, but _no one_ likes your old set. It’s old and outdated and frankly I really helped you out.” Beca’s practically shaking by the time she finishes, her breaths coming out a little more heavily than usual. 

Chloe shifts uncomfortably beside her, her gaze flitting frantically from Beca to Aubrey. The air is more than tense as The Bellas all wait for their captain’s guaranteed bad reaction.

“My god, Beca, grow up. Your attitude _stinks_. I didn’t have to let you into The Bellas, but I did because Little Miss Sunshine over here wanted me to. I can just as easily kick you out,” Aubrey snarls, stepping forward menacingly.

Beca tenses at that, because how _dare_ Aubrey insult Chloe. The redhead visibly stiffens at her supposed best friend’s words, swallowing down the lump that’s formed in her throat. Chloe stays silent though, because Aubrey is Aubrey, and who knows what will happen if she speaks up now.

So Beca speaks up for her.

“What the fuck, Aubrey? Don’t you dare blame any of this on Chloe. She’s done nothing to you and all you do is treat her like a piece of shit. Have some fucking respect, will you?” Beca growls, stamping her foot angrily. The Bellas look nearly as surprised as Aubrey at the retaliation. They were all expecting Beca to be crying by now.

A small gasp escapes Aubrey’s lips, the quiet sound cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. “You don’t tell me what to do, Beca Mitchell. It’s Chloe’s fault you’re in this group!”

“Jesus Christ, if you want me out so much then I fucking _quit_. If this is what I get for actually trying, then I give up. Enjoy your boring set, Aubrey. I hope you throw up again.” The glare Beca fixes Aubrey with is so intense the Bellas are surprised their captain doesn’t just disappear in a cloud of smoke.

Beca turns on her heel and stalks off, trying to swallow down her overwhelming emotions. Her anger turns to pain, and hot tears spill from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. God, what a mess.

Aubrey’s left staring after the small brunette, her mouth hanging wide open in shock. She turns to Chloe, ready to start ranting, but the hurt in the redhead’s eyes forces her mouth closed.

Chloe turns away silently, tears welling up in her eyes. The rest of the girls offer smiles of sympathy as she leaves, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach.

“Well done Aubrey,” Stacie snaps, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for that.”

 

**ICCA Finals —**

Beca is, as usual, a mess before their performance. Since being invited back to the Bellas, she’s been particularly nervous. Every time she’s late to practice, every time she gets something wrong, she’s worried she’s going to get kicked.

Especially after Aubrey’s reluctance to let her back in.

Chloe reassures Beca that, despite the blonde’s hostile stares, she doesn’t really hate her. Aubrey doesn’t hate anyone, she just pretends to. Despite the Chloe’s insistence that this is true, Beca doesn’t really believe her, but she’s made peace with the fact Aubrey doesn’t like her, and probably never will.

Beca and Chloe’s friendship has grown since the brunette’s return to the Bellas, and it’s something both girls are extremely grateful for. They care about each other in a way unlike the other girls, the friendship going deeper than just late night gossip and sleepovers in each other’s rooms.

Chloe doesn’t know quite what it is, but she doesn’t want to get her hopes up because it’s not like Beca would ever return her feelings, is it?

This time, Chloe doesn’t have to find Beca. They’re together when the brunette starts gasping for air, tears rolling down her cheeks, ten minutes before they’re due in on stage. 

They have plenty of time, so Chloe comforts Beca slowly, carefully. She rubs soothing circles on the brunette’s back as she shakes, gripping a cushion till her knuckles turn white.

“Shh Becs, it's okay. You’re okay,” she coos, reaching up to tuck a strand of chocolate brown hair behind Beca’s ear. The younger woman blushes under the touch, because it’s intimate and seems a little too close for a purely platonic friendship.

Because that’s what it is, right?

“What if I fuck up?” Beca cries, pressing a hand to her mouth to try and stifle the sobs wracking through her body.

Chloe’s eyes soften completely, her heart aching at the sight of Beca’s obvious pain. She knows her friend will be okay in a few minutes, but it still hurts while the panic lasts.

“You won’t fuck up, sweetie. You’re going to be amazing.” Chloe gingerly wraps one arm round Beca from the side, hoping if offers enough comfort. Beca sighs softly, her cries ceasing. She lets her head fall onto Chloe’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering closed as she relishes in the tender moment.

“Thanks Chlo,” Beca whispers, her breath ghosting across Chloe’s skin as she raises her head. She looks into the redhead’s eyes, finding only warmth and support in the mesmerising cerulean orbs. The sight fills her heart with love; Chloe Beale is going to be the death of her.

“Anytime, Becs.” Chloe grins to try and lighten the mood, knowing that an awkward silence could cause Beca to lapse back into her earlier panic. “Are you going to wear your contact lenses this time?”

“Nope,” Beca says, without hesitation.

“You should wear them. It’s bad for your eyes if you don’t wear something, and I know you don’t want to wear your glasses on stage. Plus, going without them gives you a massive headache.” Chloe stares at Beca, hoping the almost motherly tone will persuade her to actually wear them this time. 

“No. I like not being able to see the crowd,” Beca protests, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly. Chloe fights the urge to smile, because the tiny brunette is simply _adorable._

“And you can’t see other people either! I saw you stumble into a few people last time.” Chloe doesn’t say the name of the competition, because they all know what happened after that performance.

Beca doesn’t deny the claim and shrugs, picking up the small pot to look at. She turns it over in her hands and gives it a small shake before deciding that no, she really doesn’t want to see the crowd today.

“I’m good, really,” Beca insists, and so Chloe drops it. The two girls exchange soft smiles to check that everything’s okay between them.

“Then let’s go. We can’t be late!”

* * *

They win. They win and Chloe should be jumping with joy. Instead, she’s watching, her heart breaking in her chest, as Jesse pulls Beca into his arms and kisses her.

She stumbles back on impulse, unable to help the pain that shoots through her body. Her heart feels like it’s being ripped open mercilessly and squeezed till it turns to dust.

Aubrey appears next to her, scoffing as soon as she follows Chloe’s pained gaze. The blonde reaches out to squeeze her friend’s arm in gently, her heart breaking for the poor redhead. “She’s not worth it, Chloe,” she says firmly.

“But she is,” Chloe sobs, suddenly tearing her eyes away from the kissing couple. Aubrey glares at the back of Beca’s head in disgust, anger bubbling up inside her.

How dare the tiny alt girl break Chloe’s heart like this?

“I told you she was bad news.”

Chloe pulls away from Aubrey, curling in on herself. She tries to wipe away her rapidly falling tears, but gives up when her fingers merely become soaked. “I’m going for a drink.”

She leaves before Aubrey can protest.

* * *

“What the fuck, Jesse?” Beca jerks her head backwards, breaking the kiss abruptly, and yanks herself from the boy’s arms. She glares at him and folds her arms across her chest, an act of self-defence.

“I thought you liked me,” Jesse explains, hurt lacing his voice. Beca furrows her brow, regarding him with an expression akin to confusion. The boy steps forward, head tilting down as he presses himself against the brunette. He leans down, his lips inching closer and closer.

A slap echoes round the room.

Beca pulls her hand away, almost surprised, but pleasantly so. Jesse’s cheek turns a lovely shade of red and he looks utterly dumbfounded, causing the brunette to smirk triumphantly.

The room falls silent immediately — everyone stops their own chattering and turn around to stare at the tiny brunette who'd just slapped the “handsome” boy. Jesse blushes under the scrutiny, embarrassed to feel the weight of everyone's gazes upon him as he’s about to be rejected by the girl he likes.

He stares at Beca pleadingly, his eyes wide as he silently begs her not to get mad. At least not here, not now. She just grins and shakes her head subtly in reply, letting him know he’s about to get his assed kicked in public.

“Are you mad?! I’m _gay_ , Jesse. I told you this when you flirted with me!” Beca growls, pushing a hand into his chest as he tries to approach her again. He loses his balance and stumbles back. Laugher erupts from around them - she's pretty here she can hear the Bellas all snickering - as Jesse trips over someone’s backpack and falls to the floor. 

Beca can’t fight the self-satisfied giggle that bubbles up in her throat and spills from her lips.

Chloe grins from across the room, instinctively grabbing Aubrey’s arm. Beca definitely doesn't like Jesse, Beca is _gay._

She can't help the glimmer of hope that flickers to life in the bottom of her heart. Beca is _gay_ , Beca likes _girls,_ and Chloe possibly has a chance.

This changes everything.

 

**Kennedy Centre —**

Beca’s expected freak out happens a lot earlier this time.

They’re all still in their dressing room, getting dressed, fixing their hair. It’s loud; Fat Amy is shouting at Lilly, trying to get her to actually speak at an audible volume. Cynthia-Rose and Stacie are quietly kissing in the corner, both only half dressed. The only ones behaving are Jessica and Ashley, who are totally ready to go on stage, and are quietly sat in the corner taking selfies.

Chloe’s yelling at them all to _calm down_  and _get ready_ , so it’s not surprising that Beca’s mind chooses now to start panicking.

It’s as she’s brushing her hair that her chest slowly tightens and her throat closes up. Knowing what’s about to follow, she drops the brush and retreats silently from the room. 

The only thought running through Beca’s mind as her breathing quickens is that this _really_ needs to stop. It’s annoying for her — she doesn’t even know why she still panics — and annoying for the other Bellas, especially Chloe. 

She slides down the wall, her hands trembling as she clenches her fists tightly. Her eyelids flutter shut as she focuses on her breathing, trying to guide herself through it alone.

It’s hard though, because usually Chloe is there, her soft hands rubbing soothing circles on her back.

The thought causes tears to well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. Chloe didn’t even notice her leaving. _That’s how little she cares, Mitchell. Did you think she actually cared about you? Stupid, stupid._

In her distress, Beca doesn’t notice the door of the dressing room open. She doesn’t notice Chloe stepping out, her expression guilty.

“Becs?”

Beca’s head snaps up at the familiar voice. She smiles weakly through her tears and raises a hand to wipe them away hastily. “Hey,” she croaks, shifting over to make room for Chloe. 

“Hey. Uh, sorry I wasn’t here to calm you down. I was so focused on getting the girls ready I forgot it would probably induce panic.” Chloe blushes and ducks her head in embarrassment. Beca’s heart constricts; she doesn’t blame the redhead for anything. It’s her own fault she’s so annoying.

“It’s fine, I get it.” Beca shrugs and looks away, avoiding Chloe’s gaze when she looks back up.

“I wasn’t... I mean, it’s not—” Chloe stops, the words catching in her throat. She stares at Beca, her heart beating painfully in her chest. She takes in the tired lines etched into the brunette’s skin, the thick layer of concealer spread under her eyes, the disheartened expression on her face.

Beca swallows thickly but doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to drag her legs up to her chest and draw patterns with her fingernail on her clothed kneecap.

“Beca, are you—” Beca’s head whips round at the words, and she cuts Chloe off with a sharp glare. The redhead offers an apologetic smile, though it’s tight and a little forced.

An uncomfortable silence falls over them. It’s weird, _too_ weird. They just don’t do uncomfortable. When they’re together, Chloe’s always laughing and smiling, teasing Beca whenever she can. Beca’s grinning and whining like a child, arguing with Chloe over silly things that get resolved by tickle fights.

But now, they’re silent. And it’s unnerving.

“Are you wearing your contacts?” Chloe asks quietly, breaking the silence. Beca shakes her head without turning to look at her, instead focusing inspecting her trimmed nails. “You should put them in.”

“I don’t want to.” 

“But it hurts you, Becs. I know you don’t like seeing the crowd, but the less you wear them the more it damages your eyes.” Chloe’s right, they both know that, but Beca’s too stubborn to give in. She ignores the redhead’s words and stares blankly at the wall in front of them.

Chloe sighs heavily, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She never meant for _this_ to happen. The performance is bound to go wrong now; she’s never been able to focus properly if her and Beca have argued. She can’t sleep at night, can’t concentrate, can’t do anything until it’s been resolved.

But it certainly won’t be now.

Beca watches Chloe rise from the floor and go back into the dressing room, her heart heavy. _Why do I have to be so cold? Why did I shut her down like that? I should wear my contact lenses. God, now I’ve upset her. Way to go, Mitchell._

Determined to at least try and make Chloe forgive her, she slips back into their dressing room, grabs her bag and leaves to go to the ladies’ bathroom.

Hands trembling slightly, she pushes the lenses into her eyes and blinks rapidly. God, everything really is a lot clearer. At least now her headache will dissipate. 

Beca’s just leaving the bathroom, ready to go and apologise to Chloe, when the girls come streaming from their dressing room. Chloe’s behind them all, yelling that they need to get a move on. Their performance is in five minutes, apparently.

The brunette tries to catch Chloe’s eye as she walks past briskly, but she’s brushed off with a blatant blank stare. Her stomach twists guiltily, knowing this is all her fault. Quickly dumping her things in the room, she follows her friends, trying to calm the panic rising again in her throat.

As soon as Beca catches up with them, she heads straight for Chloe. Her mind is a little foggy and her hands are still shaking, but she has to try and reconcile with Chloe before the performance.

She doesn’t perform well when she’s upset, and she knows Chloe doesn’t either. The rest of the girls will pick up on the tension onstage and then perform badly too. It’s all just a recipe for disaster.

“Chlo,” Beca says softly, approaching her best friend. Chloe doesn’t look at her, just keeps staring at the empty stage. “Chloe, please. You know we don’t perform well when we’ve argued.”

“We didn’t argue. You pushed me away.” The glare Chloe gives Beca sends chills down her spine. It’s not like the redhead to be so hostile and she _hates_ it. The usually bubbly girl looks frustrated and beca hates that she’s the reason for it. It makes her feel sick.

“Chloe, please. I—I can’t—I’m...” Beca retreats backwards quickly, turning her back on Chloe. She stumbles behind a curtain, her breath catching in her throat. Tears prick in her eyes as she clutches at the thick material, balling it up in her fist.

Beca presses a hand to her chest as she focuses on her breathing, trying to calm the frantic thundering of her heart. 

Stacie appears from round the curtain, her concern filling her eyes as she sees Beca gasping for breath. “Beca, are you okay?” She rushes forward at the jerky shake of the brunette’s head. “Shall I—Shall I get Chloe?”

Beca shakes her head again, frantically this time, her eyes widening in fear. Stacie’s eyes soften as she grabs the small woman’s hands and looks into her eyes. “Okay, okay, Beca, just... Can you breathe with me? In, out, in, out. That’s it, well done. You’re doing great, sweetie.” Stacie smiles kindly as she guides Beca through her panic attack, her words soothing. 

Slowly but surely, Beca’s breathing slows. Her heart stops pounding violently in her chest, and her cheeks pale back to their original pallor. She offers Stacie a weak smile of thanks as she fiddles with the hem of her jacket.

“Thank you. I, um...” Beca trails off, not sure what to say. She can’t be honest, not really. It’s bad enough that Stacie caught her in the throes of an attack. She doesn’t want to go revealing all her insecurities.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” Stacie reaches up to squeeze Beca’s shoulder in support. She smiles, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Come on, we have a performance to slay.”

* * *

Their performance sucks.

Amy ends up displaying her vagina to the President, which is just great. The whole set was sloppy and riddled with errors; Beca wasn’t lying when she warned Chloe their argument would affect the performance.

Chloe is an angry ball of frustration as soon as they walk off the stage, the crowd booing behind them. The redhead has tears pricking at her eyes, and her cheeks are flushed with embarrassment. Beca knows she didn’t exactly cause the events on the stage, but she definitely had a part to play.

Beca’s nervous as she approaches Chloe. It’s not often the redhead gets this angry, but when she does, it’s scary. She’s slightly calmer than before, now that the performance is out of the way.

“Chlo?” 

Chloe whips round to stare at her, cerulean eyes glistening with unshod tears. Her arms are wrapped around her middle tightly, as though she’s holding herself together. She sniffs and wipes her eyes hastily as she forces her shoulders to relax. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away before, and I know our argument caused a lot of tension onstage. I-I feel partly to blame, and I know how much this means to you. I’m sorry, I really am.” Beca hangs her head guiltily, a light blush rising to her cheeks. “I even put in my contacts for you. I-I actually wore them,” she confesses. Beca feels a soft hand on her arm, a hand that’s undoubtedly Chloe’s — she’d know the touch of that hand anywhere — and she looks up nervously.

“You did? Beca, I’m so proud of you.” Chloe smiles widely, a soft look of admiration shining in her bright eyes. “And, it’s okay. It was my fault too. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry right before we went on. And I’m—I’m sorry I made you have another panic attack.” This time it’s Chloe that ducks her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

Beca cups Chloe’s cheeks in her hands, stroking her thumbs over her cheekbones. “It’s okay,” she assures, smiling comfortingly when Chloe looks at her doubtfully.

Chloe nods slowly, a shy smile spreading across her lips. Beca pulls the older woman into her arms and hugs her tightly. “It’s okay. We’re okay,” she repeats, her lips brushing Chloe’s ear.

She grins triumphantly when she feels the redhead shiver in her arms.

 

**Convention Performance —**

Beca likes to think she’s getting better at the whole stage fright thing, but she’s not. You’d think that after so many performances, it would be okay, but seemingly not for her. 

“God, Chlo, I-I’m so t-tired of this,” Beca stammers as she gasps for breath, her hands shaking while her chest rises and falls rapidly. She tips her head back against the wall as tears stream down her cheeks, relishing in the small jolt of pain that spreads through her head.

“You’re doing great, Beca, it’s nearly over.” Chloe grips Beca’s hand tightly as she watches her struggle, wishing she could trade places with her. “I... Can I hug you?” 

Chloe isn’t expecting Beca to say yes, because the brunette isn’t a really touchy person most days, let alone when she’s having a panic attack, so she’s surprised when she receives a jerky nod. Chloe wastes no time in surging forward and wrapping her arms around Beca’s middle. She brings a hand up to rub circles on the brunette’s back, her other hand cradling her head protectively.

It doesn’t take long for Beca’s sobs to die down, the cries turning to soft hiccups. She doesn’t pull away from Chloe, though. The tight embrace is warm, and she feels safe. Chloe does that to her, though. Chloe makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside. Chloe makes her heart _melt_ , and her badass facade crumble into dust.

Chloe’s spent two years taking down her walls, brick by brick, until she found the true Beca Mitchell. The scary thing is, Beca doesn’t even care. She’s not scared. She hates commitment, hates being tied down, yet here she is, at peace.

It’s a miracle, really.

Beca pulls away after a few more minutes, needing to catch her breath. Chloe’s warm and soft and cuddly and _perfect_ , but she takes Beca’s breath away.

The brunette slides down the wall and draws her legs to her chest. She wraps her arms round her calves and looks up at Chloe, patting the space next to her. Chloe smiles softly as she sits down, not even complaining getting dirt on their costumes.

“We’ve come so far,” Beca comments, picking at the shiny fabric of her sweatpants. She ignores the scratching of the waistband against the skin on her stomach and instead focuses on Chloe. Chloe’s a much better thing to focus on.

“We have.” Chloe looks almost angelic in the bright light of the corridor, her hair tightly curled and her makeup done to perfection. Their costumes are decidedly unattractive — Beca’s just thankful they’re planning to rip the god awful sweatpants off — but somehow Chloe pulls it off.

“We’ve lost our touch, Chlo. Since Aubrey left we’ve... the Bellas aren’t as good as they used to be.” It’s a confession they’ve all been thinking for a while, one no one has dared to voice until now. It seems fitting that Beca’s the one to finally say it; it’s something freshman Beca would do — be brave and bold and say what no one else would.

Chloe sighs softly, running her tongue over her bottom lip. “I know,” she says, regret and a touch of nostalgia lacing her voice. Beca stares at her intently, silently admiring the older woman’s side profile. _God_ she’s gorgeous.

“We need to find our sound again.” Beca frowns as Chloe shrugs, a defeated look falling over her face. She reaches into the redhead’s lap and laces their fingers together gently. Chloe squeezes her hand tightly in response, her lips quirking upwards with a tiny smile. 

“I know... I just—I feel like I’ve failed, y’know? Aubrey’s gone and we’ve fallen apart. Her ambition, her drive, her rules; they made us who we are. And without that... we aren’t as good. I’ve failed as a leader. I’m not—I can’t do what Aubrey did. I’m not good enough, Becs.” Chloe dissolves into sobs, her head dropping forwards as tears roll down her cheeks. 

Beca watches, horrified. She never knew Chloe felt this way. It scares her that Chloe Beale, a literal ray of sunshine, feels like she’s failed. Beca’s heart aches as brings her hand up to Chloe’s chin. She tilts it upwards so she can look into the redhead’s sad, wide eyes. She offers a soft smile, her eyes filling with empathy. She of all people knows what it’s like to feel like a failure.

“Chlo, sweetheart, that’s not true. You’re—You’re amazing. You’re the kindest, most supportive, sweet, generous woman I’ve ever met. I owe everything to you. You’re anything _but_ a failure. We all love you,” Beca assures, stroking her thumb over Chloe’s skin. 

Chloe is staring at her with a soft, loving expression that makes Beca’s twist. It’s almost too much to bear. It’s a look of someone in love, and Beca hates it. She knows Chloe only sees her as a friend, so why is she staring at her like she’s her whole world?

She’s confused and a little hurt and she wants to scream.

“I love you,” Chloe whispers into the silence. Beca’s heart stops. The world slows down around her as her heartbeat becomes audible, thumping in her ears. Tears well up in her eyes as she blinks slowly, trying to process her best friend’s words.

And then the world speeds back up, and she’s jolted from her trance. “Love you too, dork,” she teases, jabbing Chloe in the stomach. The redhead giggles, and Beca’s heart aches. Chloe turns her head and brushes her lips against the brunette’s cheek, the touch soft and light.

Beca’s stomach flips as her chest tightens and her throat closes up. She forces a smile as she looks at Chloe, hoping the redhead won’t notice the way it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Now come on, we have a performance to get to.”

* * *

They fuck up, _again._

Chloe’s somehow even more angry than last time, which isn’t fun for any of them. “What the hell just happened?!” She yells, anger and embarrassment filling in her eyes. She turns on Cynthia-Rose and glares accusingly.

“Don’t blame me, Flo pushed me,” Cynthia says defensively, turning to glare at Flo, who’s sat beside her with her arms folded.

“Yeah, blame the minority,” Flo snipes, letting our a forced breath. She returns the hostile glare, then deliberately turns away to look out of the window. 

“I’m black _and_ gay,” Cynthia retorts, a tinge of hurt lacing her tone. It’s unlike Cynthia to get so touchy about things, but her hair was just set on fire, so Beca supposes they should cut her some slack. And she did see Flo stumble into her by accident.

“Cut it out, you two.” Chloe’s rivalling glare makes them both look down sheepishly. Beca swallows nervously, the tension in the bus starting to freak her out. She wants to calm Chloe down, or at least ask her not to get any more angry, but she doesn’t want to get yelled at herself. It’s not that Beca thinks Chloe will yell at her, but the words are stuck in her throat and she really doesn’t want to get on the redhead’s bad side. Especially not right now.

Beca moves over to Chloe silently, hoping the older woman won’t turn on her too. She didn’t do anything wrong, right? “Um, Chlo?”

Chloe spins round, still glaring, and for a split second Beca thinks the redhead is about to get angry with her too. But then Chloe’s eyes soften and her body sags, the tension falling away. “Becs,” she whispers, pulling the brunette into her arms.

Beca hugs back enthusiastically, glad she was able to calm Chloe down. She rubs soothing circles on the redhead’s back as she mumbles gentle words of sympathy. Chloe melts into the embrace, a few tears rolling down her cheek as she sighs tiredly.

“We will get there. I promise.” Beca pulls back and looks at Chloe fondly, her eyes shining with love. This time she’s the one that leans up and presses a kiss to the redhead’s cheek, relishing in the feel of the soft skin under her lips. 

Chloe blushes, and Beca’s stomach flips.

 

**World Championships —**

Beca holds her breath when she panics sometimes. She hopes it’ll stop the frantic thumping of her heart in her rib cage, the shaking of her hands, the tightness in her chest. It doesn’t, and never has. She’s convinced it’ll work this time though.

Chloe’s not so sure.

“Beca, you _need_ to breathe.” Chloe’s watching, eyes wide with concern, as Beca struggles to catch her breath. The brunette nods jerkily; she knows she needs to breathe, she just _can’t_. “Sweetie, stop holding your breath, you’re going blue,” Chloe says desperately, tugging on Beca’s hands.

The panicked look reflected in Chloe’s eyes is enough to part Beca’s lips, air rushing from her mouth. She takes a deep, gasping breath as she tries to feed her body’s craving for oxygen.

“There we go, that’s better.” Chloe moves her hands up to cup Beca’s cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over her cheekbones soothingly. She smiles softly as Beca leans into the touch, her eyes closing as she tries to focus on breathing.

“I’m scared, Chlo,” Beca mumbles, her throat closing up. Her eyes fly open as she chokes, tears welling up in her dark eyes. “What if I fuck up? I can’t—I can’t do it.” The brunette takes a hasty step backwards, wringing her hands together frantically.

Chloe watches with concern as Beca’s back hits the curtain. It’s a good thing it’s so heavy, or the small woman would have been sent tumbling backwards. The redhead steps forward slowly, trying to stay calm as she watches her best friend — and crush — panic. “Beca _please_ , you’re going to be okay. I don’t know how to... Just—Just try and breathe, okay? We have to go on in two minutes.”

Chloe hates that she doesn’t know what to do. She’s calmed Beca down many times before, and it’s always worked, but this time the brunette seems a little too far gone for her soft words to work.

Beca nods, because she _wants_ to calm down, she really does. It’s just hard when all she can think about is fucking up their performance. She can’t be the reason they don’t win this. They’ve worked so hard. They’ve found their sound. The Bellas deserve this win _so much_ , and Beca would hate to be the one to mess it all up.

The Kommissar’s disheartening words really got to her. DSM are _so good_ , and Beca knows deep down that they don’t really have a chance against them. That tall pretty blonde shoved that in her face, which really hasn't helped with her current panic.

“Beca, can you hear me?” Chloe’s scared question snaps Beca from her trance. The redhead steps towards the trembling girl, an idea popping into her head. It’s risky, it really is, but it’s worth a shot. It has to be.

Beca nods silently, her eyes wide as she stiffens up. Chloe smiles reassuringly as she strides forward. She pulls Beca into her, arms wrapping around her neck. And then, after sending a quick and desperate prayer up to heaven, she presses her lips to Beca’s.

Beca tenses under the sudden contact, her and her heart stops as soon as she realises what’s happening. But then she’d kissing back, the tightness in her check loosening as she melts into Chloe’s safe embrace. Her panic fades away until all she can think of are Chloe’s soft, sweet lips moving against hers.

Chloe cups the back of Beca’s neck, fingers tangling in her hair as she gently pushes her tongue between the brunette’s lips — she’s granted entrance immediately. They both smile into the kiss, glad that it’s finally happening.

“Beca, Chloe, we have to— Oh!” Stacie squeals as she sees the two captains kissing, holding each other tightly. “Girls!” She yells, poking her head back round the curtain.

Beca pulls away just as the rest of the Bellas appear, all wondering what had Stacie so excited. Fat Amy immediately grins and offers Beca an air high five, which the she gladly returns. Beca turns to Chloe then, happiness shining in her eyes. The redhead is staring at her with adoration, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“Chlo, I—”

“And give a big welcome to... the Barden Bellas!” The man says from on stage, his booming voice echoing round the stadium. The crowd cheers, a roaring, deafening noise that snaps the Bellas back to reality.

“We’ll talk later,” Chloe whispers, grabbing Beca’s hand as she practically skips onto the stage after Stacie. Beca just nods and follows obediently, desperately wishing she hadn’t worn her contact lenses. Damn Chloe for being so cute and persuasive.

Chloe lets go of Beca’s hand, and she freezes. The crowd falls silent and suddenly it’s all too much. Beca feels panic start to bubble up in her throat, so she looks desperately to Chloe for support.

As soon as the redhead sees Beca’s expression, she reaches out and tangles their fingers together. The soft touch grounds Beca, and she smiles, her worry starting to fade away.

_Thank you_ , she mouths, just as the lights flick off.

* * *

They win. They actually _win_.

Excitement and pride soars inside Beca as soon as the announcement is made. Her face lights up in a huge grin as tears of joy well up in her eyes. She looks around for Chloe, wanting nothing more than to be in her arms right now.

Beca sees her, hugging Jessica. She pushes past Lilly and grabs Chloe’s arm, spinning her round. She wastes no time in grabbing her by the edges of her vest and smashing their lips together. Chloe slides her arms round Beca’s waist as she kisses back, falling into the passionate display of affection.

Cheers erupt from the Bellas and the audience as they stand there, kissing, enjoying the embrace. Chloe pulls away when the need for oxygen becomes too great and presses her forehead to Beca’s. Tears slide down her cheeks as she grins, her fingers tugging at Beca’s hair.

“God, I love you,” Beca whispers, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She can’t remember a time she last felt this happy. Chloe completes her, makes her feel warm and loved and wanted. All the struggles in her life seem completely worth it. She’d go through everything again just to have this with Chloe.

“I love you too.” Chloe presses a chaste kiss to Beca’s lips before turning back to the audience, one arm still wrapped round the tiny brunette’s waist.

Beca grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoyed it! shannon asked to write an epilogue, which i gladly accepted, so i'll post that as a separate fic when it's done :)


	80. why am i falling?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #80:  
> “it’s the silence that gets her. the stillness, the _nothing_ , that hangs in the air only worsens the aching in the pit of her stomach. she’s _tired_ , too tired to even function.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven’t posted in five (?) days, but my friend is staying with me and i just haven’t had time to write a lot. BUT, i managed to finish this earlier. i’m posting it here but it’s going to be part of a series posted separately too!

Beca sighs softly as she flicks on her coffee machine, pulling a mug down from the cabinet above her head. She chooses a spotty grey one, a personal favourite — it’s one of the many Aubrey gave her when she moved into her new apartment. She tries not to think too hard as she pours her coffee, fighting to stop herself falling deeper into the dark hole she’s already in.

It’s the silence that gets her. The stillness, the _nothing_ , that hangs in the air only worsens the aching in the pit of her stomach. She’s _tired_ , too tired to even function.

Beca’s been working crazy hours ever since she started her new job six months ago. She can’t even remember the last time she slept for more than five hours. The pure determination and will to succeed that have been dragging her through the past few months is starting to fade. Beca is aware she’s slowing down, her motivation escaping her fragment by shattered fragment. Her long hours are both physically and mentally draining, and she wants nothing more than to sleep for a million years.

She can’t, though.

Instead of sleep, Beca has coffee to keep her going. It’s no secret she’s addicted to caffeine; she practically lives off it. Her job is so demanding she barely gets time to eat, and by the time she stumbles through the door at midnight, she’s too tired to even heat up a meal for one.

Beca doesn’t like to admit that her life is kind of falling apart — it definitely is, but whatever — so she lives in denial. The fact Beca’s too scared to enter into a relationship is part of the reason she keeps herself so busy. Throwing herself into her work manages to distract her mind from falling deeper into the pit of depression she’s already in.

Her apartment is too lonely, too big for just her. Beca supposes she _could_ get a girlfriend, but it’s not as if it would last long, is it? Her childhood has left her scarred, afraid of committing herself to a loving relationship. Usually Beca gets by on the odd one night stand, but she hasn’t had sex in almost three months.

Not being able string a coherent sentence together without nearly crying is part of the reason she sucks at flirting so much. Beca flat out refuses to see a shrink — she really doesn’t want someone trying to pick apart her feelings. She doesn’t want to experience them, let alone let someone else witness them.

Aubrey and Stacie are Beca’s only friends, the only ones willing to put in the effort of maintaining her friendship. She’s a lousy friend, and she knows it. It’s hard when her chest still tightens every time she picks up the phone to call one of them. So she tends to avoid it altogether.

Beca’s phone starts buzzing on the counter, snapping her out of her trance. Her eyes slowly shift back into focus, her gaze coming to rest on her now cold coffee. She yawns and dumps it down the sink, deciding she’ll just make a cup later.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Beca picks up her phone and stares at the screen. She sighs in relief as she sees Aubrey’s name on the screen. Ignoring the twisting in her stomach, Beca swipes her thumb across the screen and raises the device to her ear.

“Hey Bree.” Beca moves over to her couch and flops down onto it, covering her mouth to stifle another yawn.

 _“Beca Mitchell, you’re alive.”_ Aubrey’s snarky greeting makes Beca’s lips quirk upwards in a half smile.

“Just about,” she replies, too exhausted to put on the cheery facade she usually does. Beca can almost hear Aubrey’s frown through the phone and she groans internally, wondering what she’s got herself in for this time.

 _“Beca Mitchell, do I need to come over? Because I will, and you know it. Have you eaten yet today? Have you even slept in the last twenty-four hours?”_ Aubrey sounds mad, which isn’t unusual. She’s always yelling through the phone at Beca these days, telling her to take care of herself.

Aubrey has a busy work schedule, but always finds time to come over and make sure Beca’s okay. (She often turns up in the early hours of the morning because she knows Beca will definitely be home then. That said, Aubrey’s not sure Beca would be if it weren’t for the fact the cleaner kicks her out of the studio at eleven.)

“I’m fine, you don’t need to come over,” Beca says firmly, picking the TV remote up with her spare hand. She turns it on and presses mute, flicking between channels as she tries to find something half decent to fall asleep to.

_“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t answer my questions, Beca. When did you last eat or sleep?”_

Beca winces at Aubrey’s tone; she sounds more mad than usual. “Uh...” She trails off, because she can’t actually remember. “I slept yesterday, I think. I’m not—No, I definitely did.” Beca’s visions swims a little as she rubs a hand over her face, her eyes threatening to slip shut. Time for coffee.

 _“That’s it. Stacie and I are coming over.”_ Aubrey’s words carry a sense of finality Beca knows not to argue with. The brunette hears a rustling over the line and muffled words being exchanged. She thinks she hears Stacie’s voice, agreeing to come over, but she can’t be sure. Her brain isn’t really working right now.

“You don’t have to,” Beca mumbles half-heartedly, her phone slipping in her grasp as she sags into the couch.

 _“We’ll be over in ten minutes.”_ The line goes dead then, and Beca allows her phone to fall onto the leather beside her. She leans back and allows herself a few moments of silence, a series of yawns escaping her mouth.

Beca knows she needs to sleep. She just hates falling asleep alone. Every night she tosses and turns, her mind whirring as she works herself up over nothing. Beca’s woken up countless times to find herself in the throes of a panic attack. She hates it so much that she tries not to sleep more than she absolutely has to.

Stifling yet _another_ yawn, Beca tries to rise from her couch. She finds herself unable to, her body too heavy to move. It feels like she has weights attached to her limbs, dragging them down. Giving in, Beca lets her eyes slip shut, barely fighting sleep.

Minutes later she’s knocked out, her eyebrows creased into a small frown.

* * *

When Beca wakes, she finds she’s not on the couch like she had been the night before. She’s lying in her own bed, the duvet and blankets pulled up around her. Beca finds herself sinking into the mattress, relishing in the comfort of it. (She hasn’t actually slept in her bed for months; she usually just passes out on the couch, too tired to drag herself to bed.)

The brunette spends a few more minutes relishing in the warmth that envelops her, her mind finding a rare moment of peace. Beca hears soft voices on the the other side of her door and figures Aubrey and Stacie must have stayed the night.

Reluctantly, Beca slides out of bed, her feet hitting the soft carpet as she does so. She realises she’s still dressed in the same clothes as before, and she sighs with relief. She doesn’t want Aubrey finding anything.

As Beca passes her mirror, she stops and turns to look at her reflection. Her eyes are sunken in, her cheeks hollow and pale. Her once tight jeans are a slightly baggy, and her plaid shirt engulfs her just a little more than usual. Beca winces; she really doesn’t look good. No wonder Aubrey’s worried.

She doesn’t need to be though. Beca thinks she’s doing just fine on her own. She’s not dead, so that’s something.

Beca hastily changes into some sweatpants and an over-sized shirt. After pulling on a hoodie and twisting her hair up in a quick messy bun, she leaves her room.

Both Aubrey and Stacie turn to look at her as soon as her bedroom door opens, their expressions unreadable. Stacie offers a soft, almost apologetic smile, and Beca’s known her long enough to know it’s a “I’m sorry for what Aubrey’s about to say” look.

Beca’s right, because as soon as she advances towards the two women, Aubrey opens her mouth. “Rebecca Mitchell!” The brunette recoils at the use of her full name; she’s in _big_ trouble. “You told me you were okay.”

“I am, I’m—”

“You are _not_ okay! The only food in your fridge is leftover Chinese and two apples. Your freezer is full of untouched meals; I know you bought those four months ago because I was there with you, and we bought enough for _three months_.” Aubrey’s practically seething when she finishes, her hands shaking with rage. But as soon as she sees Beca’s eyes fill with tears, her expression softens considerably. “Beca, you can’t keep living like this,” she says gently, walking over to her friend. “I hate seeing you fall apart.”

Beca sobs as Aubrey pulls her into a hug, wrapping her arms protective round the woman’s small frame. Stacie walks over silently and joins them, hugging Beca from behind. After a few minutes, Aubrey pulls away and looks Beca in the eyes.

“I know you don’t like public places much, but will you _please_ get out somewhere other than work. You spend too much time at the studio, and any spare time you spend cooped up in here. It’s the weekend now, please go out.” It’s quite a big ask, and Aubrey knows it. She expects Beca to flat out refuse, to be completely honest, so she’s more than shocked when she receives a tiny nod in response.

“Uh, my boss invited me to a private performance of Dua Lipa’s new album. I guess I could go?” Beca chews on her lip nervously as she relays the information, her stomach flipping as she speaks again. “But, um, he told me to bring a plus one.”

Stacie regards Beca thoughtfully, an idea sparking in her eyes. “How about Aubrey and I find you a girl to take? She can find one and I can find one. Then you can choose,” she suggests hopefully. Aubrey nods in agreement as she waits for Beca’s response.

Beca frowns at first, chewing thoughtfully on her lip, but the more she thinks about it, the better the idea seems. Stacie’s plan means she doesn’t have to stress about finding someone. Stacie and Aubrey both know plenty of respectable women, she’s sure of it. “I guess that would be okay? I mean, they probably won’t want to go when they see me in person but—”

“Beca, of course they’ll want to go with you,” Stacie says gently, offering the smaller brunette a warm smile. “Leave it to us!” She turns to Aubrey and grins, excited at the prospect of battling her girlfriend to find their best friend a partner for the viewing.

Beca smiles as she looks between the couple before her. They’re sharing loving smiles, their eyes full of adoration as they stare at each other. It makes her stomach twist, because she finds herself wanting it. Beca’s never really felt a strong need to have a relationship before — even if she has, it’s virtually impossible for her to maintain one — but now she finds herself pining for someone.

She doesn’t know who, but she just finds herself wanting _more_.

* * *

Two days later, Beca gets a call from Aubrey. She hasn’t exactly left her apartment _yet_ , but she plans to, she really does. She just has to work up the courage to go somewhere. Her chest tightens every time she steps outside her apartment to go to work, let alone a busy public place.

Beca picks the one with trembling hands, worried Aubrey will be mad she hasn’t ventured out yet. “Hi,” she mumbles, turning onto her side in bed. Beca brings her knees up to her chest and yawns, pressing her phone to her ear.

 _“We have our ladies, Beca. Now I’m guessing you haven’t left your apartment since we came over, which is fine. Really, it’s okay.”_ Aubrey’s gentle tone releases the knot of worry in Beca’s stomach, and allows her to stretch her legs back out again. _“But, since you haven’t left, we thought we’d show you the two women at a coffee house.”_

Beca’s heart rate increases at the words, the thumping in her chest resonating through her whole body. She swallows thickly and adjusts her grip on her phone, worried the sudden sweatiness of her palms will make it slip. “That’s... I mean—I can’t—” Beca stops mid sentence as her throat closes up, panic bubbling up inside her.

 _“Beca, Beca breathe, okay? It’s a very small coffee shop, tucked away between some buildings. I know you can do this. It may be uncomfortable, but Beca you have to expose yourself to these things for them to have any chance of improving. It’s hard sweetie, I know, but you’ve got this.”_ Aubrey’s words of encouragement and optimism calm Beca significantly; she even feels a flicker of hope igniting deep in her gut. Aubrey is right, she _can_ do this. She can kick anxiety’s ass and go outside, no problem.

“Thanks Bree. Text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Beca hangs up and lets out a slow breath. Time to face (some of) her demons.

* * *

It takes Beca an hour to leave her apartment.

She agreed to meet Aubrey and Stacie at ten, and it’s already quarter past. After receiving a calming text from Aubrey assuring her to take her time, Beca feels slightly better. All she has to do is get in her car and drive to the coffee house; it’s not that hard.

It takes Beca another ten minutes of carefully controlled breathing to step outside her door. She focuses on staying calm as she takes the elevator down to the carpark and walks out to her car. Her throat constricts as she crosses the carpark, unrealistic situations springing to the forefront of her mind.

What is she gets kidnapped? Or killed? What if she crashes her car and dies? What if there’s a lot of traffic?

Beca wonders if she can make it the short distance to the coffee house on foot. She’s _terrified_ , but if she makes it, it’ll be a huge step. Beca takes a deep breath and pictures the look of pride that would appear on Aubrey’s face. Stacie would grin and she’d be enveloped in a tight hug. Beca wants to make her friends proud. She wants to do this. For herself, and for them.

Pulling her coat around herself tightly, Beca begins the walk to the coffee house. She glances down at her phone and sees an encouraging text from Aubrey.

_**Aubrey [10:23am]:** No rush, Beca, take your time! If you manage to make it here I’ll buy you those new headphones you want xx_

The kind message elicits a soft smile from Beca; Aubrey knows how much she wants those headphones. Beca doesn’t know what she’d do thought the blonde. Aubrey has probably saved her life. Multiple times.

The thought spurs Beca on, and she becomes more determined than ever to make it to the coffee house on foot.

Beca slips one earbud into her ear and puts _Titanium_ on repeat. The song calms her immensely and gives her the courage to keep on going, no matter what happens. It makes her feel her stronger than she is, something she really needs right now.

She focuses on mouthing along to the lyrics as she walks down the street, thankful that it’s not too busy. She knows exactly where the coffee house is, so that’s one less thing to stress about.

Beca almost turns back twenty times before she gets even close to _Death by Caffeine_ , but she manages. She’s still mouthing along to _Titanium_ — she’s on her fifth replay — when she suddenly slams into a soft body.

Hot coffee spills everywhere, scalding Beca’s pale skin as she recoils in shock. The stinging pain of the burning coffee distracts her for a moment, and she stares down at the bright red mark on her hand.

“Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry!”

A frantic voice snaps Beca from her trance, and she snaps her head up, her eyes wide. There’s a woman — a _beautiful_ woman — standing in front of her, an apologetic expression scrawled across her pretty face. Beca finds herself hypnotised by bright blue eyes and fiery curls, unable to think properly.

Her mind stumbles as she tries to piece together a sentence. It’s this kind of thing that freaks her out. Beca anticipates the tightness of her chest and closing of her throat before it happens. Her stomach drops as she steps backwards instinctively, eyes flicking around to try and find a quiet place to panic.

“Um, are you okay?” The woman takes a step forward, concern filling her bright eyes. Beca’s phone slips from her grasp and tumbles to the pavement, her earphones falling with it. It cracks and a thin line spreads across the screen.

Beca turns on her heel and stumbles into a small alley, her vision blurry with tears as she tries to coax Aubrey’s voice into her head. _That’s it Beca, deep breaths. In, hold, and out. You’re doing great sweetie, okay? Don’t worry. I’m here._ Imagining Aubrey’s voice actually helps a surprising amount.

By the time the gorgeous woman rounds the corner, clutching the smashed phone in her hand, Beca’s breathing is almost back to normal. The brunette lets her head fall back against the brick, relishing in the small shot of pain that spreads through her head.

“Are you okay?” The woman stares at Beca, offering a soft smile as the brunette meets her worried gaze.

“Y-Yeah I’m fine. I just—Anxiety, y’know?” Beca has never given up a piece of information — especially one so personal — as easily as that. There’s just something about those bright ocean-like eyes that calms her significantly.

The woman nods, understanding filling her eyes. Beca expected sympathy or pity, not this look of calm understanding. It’s surprisingly refreshing.

“How do you feel now? Do you need anything?”

“No I’m—I think I’m good. I’m meant to be meeting my friends for coffee and—oh god I’m so late. And I spilt your coffee, _shit_. D-Do you want another one? I’ll... I can buy you one now if you want? Or not, whatever’s fine for you. It’s really okay if not I can just—” Beca can feel herself getting worked up the more she babbles, so she cuts herself off abruptly and ducks her head as an embarrassed blush spreads across her pale cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay.” The woman steps forward and tugs Beca’s hands into her own. She laces their fingers together loosely and offers a tentative smile. “I’d love to get coffee with you, but I don’t need you to buy it for me.”

“Y-You mean l-like a date?” Beca kicks herself internally as soon as the words tumble from her mouth. Of course the stunning wouldn’t didn’t mean a _date_. She probably has a husband, maybe some children, or at _least_ a boyfriend. Beca doesn’t believe she’s single for a second, and she’s certainly not _gay_.

Beca ducks her head and avoids the woman’s gaze as she waits for a response. She focuses on drawing small circles on her thigh through her jeans, her short nails pressing lightly into her skin. The silence stretches on, and Beca feels herself begin to panic once more. “I’m so sorry, I just... I don’t even know why I would assume that. You’re probably straight and married and—”

“Wait, no, I meant as a date,” the redhead interjects, hope flickering in her eyes. She offers Beca a soft smile as she takes a tentative step forwards.

“W-What? Really?”

The woman offers an enthusiastic nod in response, a wide smile spreading across her lips. “Come on, let’s go.” She grabs Beca’s hand again and pulls her gently back to the street. Beca follows willingly, focusing on the sensation of her skin against the redhead’s soft hand. “I’m Chloe by the way.”

 _Chloe_. Beca’s heart skips a beat at the name. As they’re walking, her mind is filled of bright blue eyes and fiery hair and _Chloe_. The redhead doesn’t let go of her hand, and instead chooses to intwine their fingers together tightly. Beca walks with her heart in her throat; since when has this ever happened to her?

Beca can’t form a proper sentence without getting anxious, let alone go on a _date_ with a gorgeous woman. It’s just not realistic.

“You never told me your name!” Chloe turns her head to look at Beca with curious eyes as they make their way down the street.

“Uh, it’s B-Beca.”

“What a nice name,” Chloe comments, grinning. “So, you said you were going to meet friends?”

Beca’s about to nod simply in response, but then she realises that Chloe probably wants more than just a silent nod. She frowns and falters in her step, her upper body tensing slightly as her brain works to put together a coherent sentence. Beca’s aware that Chloe is still looking at her expectantly, and she whimpers quietly.

“Beca, it’s okay, take your time.” Beca nods, staring down at the pavement as she tries to calm her heartbeat. Take your time. Beca listens to Chloe’s melodic voice repeat in her head, her thoughts flowing more easily by the minute.

“They’re meant to be finding me a date for—for a m-music gala. I-I’m a music producer so I get to, um, go to p-private viewings and stuff.” Beca let’s out a heavy breath when she’s finished, her heart thumping as she waits for Chloe’s laughter.

Instead, the redhead offers her a proud smile and squeezes her hand in support. Beca’s heart soars. “That’s awesome! Who’s the private viewing for?”

“D-Dua Lipa.”

A small squeal escapes Chloe’s lips as her eyes light up. “Are you serious? Oh my god, I _love_ Dua Lipa!” She yells, squeezing Beca’s hand excitedly. Beca can’t help grinning at the childlike display of emotion, the rest of the world slipping away as she fills her mind with _Chloe Chloe Chloe._

But then Chloe’s face falls, and Beca’s heart drops. “I’ve never seen her though. I cant afford concert tickets.” The redhead laughs, but it’s sad and humourless. It makes Beca want to cry, because that is not an expression she wants to see ever again.

“I can bring you,” Beca blurts before she can stop herself. It’s probably a bad idea to invite Chloe because she’s a bumbling mess in front of her, but when the redhead grins wider than ever, Beca can’t find it in herself to care.

“Seriously?! Oh my god Beca, thank you! Thank you thank you _thank you_.” Chloe stops dead in her tracks and envelops Beca in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around the brunette’s waist, pressing their bodies together.

It’s the surprise that triggers the racing of her heart and her sudden erratic breathing. Beca groans as a familiar wave of panic washes over her. Beca _really_ doesn’t want to have a panic attack while she’s got an extremely gorgeous woman pressed against her. She wills the panic away and instead focuses on Chloe’s fruity perfume and soft, warm embrace. As soon as Beca manages to melt into the hug, her muscles loosen and her breathing slows.

Chloe pulls away, a guilty look etched into her face. “I’m sorry, I—” she starts, shuffling backwards slightly so there’s a respectable distance between them once more.

Beca finds herself missing the warmth straight away, and she frowns. “It’s okay, really. I’m fine,” she assures, smiling. Her eyes widen when her cracked phone chimes in Chloe’s hand. “Shit! Aubrey’s going to be so worried about me.”

“It’s okay Becs, let’s just get there quickly.” Chloe takes Beca’s hand into hers again and they continue their walk to the coffee house, both unable to keep the smiles off their faces.

* * *

Beca and Chloe arrive at _Death by Caffeine_ two minutes later, their hands still linked. Aubrey looks panicked as she aggressively drums her fingernails onto the table-top. Stacie has one hand on the blonde’s back, gently rubbing soothing circles as she assures her that everything will be okay.

Aubrey’s head snaps up as soon as the bell overhead chimes, her eyes wide and hopeful. She lets out a heavy breath of relief as soon as she sees Beca, and immediately rises from her seat. Lips curving into a thankful smile, she rushes forwards and pulls the brunette into a tight hug.

“Beca, oh my _god_ , are you okay?” Aubrey’s gaze flits over Beca’s face, looking for any signs of worry or distress. Her hands reach up to brush a few strands of hair from the brunette’s face, the touch soft and caring

“I’m good, I’m okay. I, uh, smashed my phone on the way here. I’m sorry I couldn’t text you,” Beca explains, fiddling with the hem of her flannel shirt nervously. She glances across at Chloe, who’s standing patiently beside her, a small smile on her lips. “Bree, this is, um, Chloe. She—Well, I bumped into her and she— _wow_ , I can’t believe this is true—asked me out.”

Chloe grins, brushing their thumbs together supportively. Beca blushes as she meets Aubrey’s gaze again, her heart pounding in her chest. For once, it’s not out of panic; it’s out of nervous excitement. Chloe makes her stomach flip and her heart race. But Beca wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re kidding right? Beca Mitchell got a date? Without help?” Stacie comes up behind Aubrey, a grin plastered on her face. She loops her arms around the blonde’s waist and presses a soft kiss to her neck. Aubrey playfully pushes Stacie away and wriggles from her grasp; it’s a known fact that Aubrey isn’t a huge fan of PDA.

“Hey! I’m not as incompetent as you think,” Beca protests, grabbing Chloe’s hand indignantly. She laces their fingers together and shuffles even closer to the redhead.

“Come on Beca, don’t lie to yourself,” Stacie teases, the words spoken in good faith.

Beca’s face falls though, and she drops Chloe’s hand in a flash. She steps away and wraps her arms around her middle, a haunted expression taking residence on her face. “I-I know. This is my first date in f-five years.” A light blush dusts Beca’s cheeks as she whispers the confession. She ducks her head in embarrassment and hopes to high heavens that she doesn’t start panicking.

Beca’s chest tightens, and she groans. Not here, not now.

But then Chloe’s hands are holdings hers, and her face is being tilted upwards. Navy eyes meet cerulean ones, and Beca can’t fight the thankful smile that breaks out on her lips. “Thank you,” she murmers.

Aubrey and Stacie watch, expressions of shock and relief on their respective faces. It’s a miracle that Beca’s letting another woman touch her, and an even bigger surprise that Chloe is able to calm her down instantly.

“Well I guess you won’t be wanting our lovely choices anymore.” Stacie steps back to reveal two women, sat patiently at a table, engrossed in conversation.

“Looks like they’re happy together,” Beca comments, squeezing Chloe’s hand tightly. “And I’m happy with Chloe.”

Chloe grins and presses a soft kiss to Beca’s cheek. “I’m happy with you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have planned this series of fics out already, but if you wanted i could squeeze in a fic about the music gala? yes or no?


	81. sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #81:  
> “i’m hella sick but i don’t want to tell you because i know you’ll worry. what? yeS i’m finE” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy this (kinda) fluffy sick fic :)

When Chloe wakes up with a blocked nose and an uncomfortable sting in her throat, she sighs. Of course she’s ill.

She downs three glasses of water before deeming her throat comfortable enough to get through the day with. Blatantly ignoring her constant sniffling, she dresses quickly and heads downstairs to the kitchen, her lack of smell reminding her once again of her impending illness.

“Are you okay? You look rather pale,” Beca asks softly, her tone laced with concern as it always is when Chloe looks anything less than her usual perky self.

“I’m fine,” the redhead dismisses with a wave of her hand, hoping the piping coffee her girlfriend has already made her will somehow magically cure the sting at the back of her throat every time she swallows.

“Hmm,” Beca murmurs in response, her voice tinged with doubt as she flips pancakes absentmindedly. Despite what many think, Beca's an excellent cook. Stacie and Jessica used to cook every night, taking it in turns, but one day Chloe had come home from class to find Beca standing over the hob, stirring pasta. Ever since the Bellas had tried the delicious spaghetti, it had been decided that Beca would cook most of their meals.

And since the brunette is an early riser — also despite popular belief — it's common that she makes pancakes or waffles for breakfast.

Chloe swallows down a sneeze – she has no idea how – and grabs her phone from where it's charging on the counter. The redhead is probably one of the only Bellas able to be away from her phone for more than a couple of hours. “I need to get to class,” she announces, jumping forwards to place a quick kiss on her girlfriend's lips.

“But it’s only seven-thirty,” Beca points out, narrowing her eyes skeptically. Chloe freezes, her eyes widening because _shit_ , she really hadn’t thought of that.

“Um, I said I'd meet Clara for a coffee before class,” she mumbles in her panic, praying to god she doesn’t sound as blocked as she thinks she does. Why the hell did she sound like a man, of all things?

“You don't like Clara,” is the quick response, the worried voice floating out into the hall where Chloe is already pulling on her coat.

“Love you,” the the redhead calls before slipping from the house and onto the drive.

* * *

By midday, Chloe feels like she’s been run over by a truck. Her eyes are sore and stinging, her throat feels dry and scratchy, and she can’t smell a goddamn thing. Not to mention the splitting headache currently residing in her skull. No, today is not a good day.

Ashley approaches her in the canteen at lunchtime, black coffee in hand — Chloe had sent her to a coffee shop to get her some, totally glossing over the fact it’s her eighth cup already that day. _It helps my throat_ , she keeps telling herself, and perhaps it really does. Or perhaps it it’s psychological. Who knows? Not her.

As soon as the coffee is placed in front of her, Chloe grabs at it, bringing it to her lips desperately.

The hot liquid slides down her throat, soothing the dryness. “You shouldn’t drink so much,” Ashley comments, quirking an eyebrow as Chloe pushes the now empty cup away from her. 

“I’m sick,” is the redhead’s excuse, as she lets her head rest on the hard surface of the table.

“You should be resting,” the brunette says softly, furrowing her brow with concern. She's not particularly close to Chloe or anything, but she doesn't like seeing the Bella captain so sick, and she knows for a _fact_ that Beca would have the redhead tucked up in bed if she knew about this.

“No,” Chloe says firmly. She desperately wants to sleep, but the high caffeine levels inside her make her want to get up.

Perhaps she should go for a run after class.

* * *

She shouldn’t have.

By the time she’s run off her caffeine high, two hours have passed and she’s drenched with sweat. She doubles over as she’s overcome by a hacking cough that rips through her, leaving her swaying gently on the spot.

Thankfully she’s at the park. Alone.

As she stumbles back to the house, she supposes that Ashley had been right. She should be resting. Even she – the woman who sacrifices her own health to help others constantly – knows that. There’s one reason why she isn’t currently tucked up in bed, TV remote in one hand, hot chocolate in the other. The reason is Beca, her wonderful girlfriend.

Beca has a tendency to worry when it comes to Chloe. She worries about Chloe incessantly, which one may think is sweet, but it can actually get rather irritating.

Chloe doesn't blame the brunette though; she's listened, tears in her eyes, as Beca tells her traumatic stories from her childhood.

Chloe knows Beca only worries about her because she's lost a lot, and she isn't even of legal age yet. It's perfectly understandable that she doesn't want to lose anything else.

And that’s why the redhead doesn’t tell Beca that she’s ill, not even when the brunette asks for the fourth time if she’s okay.

* * *

“Aren’t you going to eat your spaghetti? It’s your favourite,” Beca says, her eyes full of worry. It’s abnormal for Chloe to barely touch her food; it's no secret that, while the redhead can't cook, she adores good food.

“I’m just not too hungry that’s all. My stomach is a little sore; I think it’s period cramps,” Chloe lies with averted eyes, forgetting that her period is synchronised with Beca’s, and they’re both not due for another two weeks.

The brunette accepts the excuse and clears away the table, seemingly oblivious to Chloe’s discreet sniffling and occasional coughing.

“Would you like a drink?” Beca pulls open the fridge and pulls out two chilled beers. It's a sort of tradition that they both have a beer on Wednesday evenings after dinner. Chloe doesn't remember how it started, but it's a thing they do. A thing they've done every week for six months now.

“Not for me, thanks,” Chloe declines, hoping it doesn't arouse too much suspicion. Beca stares at her oddly then, as if trying to work something out. She says nothing, but puts one bottle back and shuts the fridge door a little forcefully.

Chloe sighs with relief. She's safe for now, at least.

* * *

It’s late – or early, depending on how you look at it – maybe 2AM, when Chloe is roused by a sudden coughing fit. She tumbles out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom, praying she didn’t wake her girlfriend up. Thank god she’s a deep sleeper.

Chloe gulps down some water, the cool liquid easing the pain in her throat. Deciding she really can’t continue without it, she knocks back some aspirin, before refilling her glass of water. She proceeds to down a litre of water, resulting in her promptly throwing up, the sudden high water level too much for her body to handle.

With a frustrated sigh, she wipes it up and trudges back to her room.

Beca doesn’t stir as the redhead climbs into the large bed and snuggles into her pillow, her body aching to be held. She doesn’t want to pass the illness along, so she stays at the edge of the bed, where she’s least likely to infect her sleeping girlfriend.

* * *

The following morning, she’s no better. She’s worse, even.

Chloe's cough attacks her before she even opens her eyes, the force of it causing her to curl into a tight ball on her side, tucking her face into her knees. Her sleep-clouded mind forgets that today is Saturday, and Beca won’t be up. In fact, the brunette is still lying beside her, face peaceful as she slumbers.

The redhead groans as she swallows, her saliva getting stuck in her throat. Water. She needs water.

Blindly, she sticks her hand out from under the covers and waves it around, hoping to come in contact with the glass. She does, in fact, find the glass, but instead of wrapping her hand around it, she’s knocking it over, the water spilling onto the carpet.

It’s new, and _fuck_ , Beca will kill her if she doesn’t clean it up now. (The brunette's room is surprisingly clean _all the time_.)

Mind still fuzzy with sleep – and her sickness – Chloe attempts to roll out of bed. She’s warm though, and she whines as her leg peeks out from underneath the comforter. It’s cold out there.

Why she thinks rolling off her bed with her eyes closed is a good idea, she’ll never know. But somehow, in her delusion, she convinces herself it is. She rolls, completely missing her target — the floor — and ends up knocking her head rather hard on the corner of her nightstand.

She's lying on the floor, still in desperate need of water as she feels herself drift out of consciousness, darkness enveloping her.

* * *

Chloe stirs awake to find herself in bed, tucked up under layers of blankets. It’s nice, and _god_ , it’s so warm. It’s beyond nice.

It feels like heaven. Perhaps she’s dead. If she is, she certainly doesn’t mind.

Alas, as she opens her eyes she realises she’s only in her girlfriend's bedroom, lying in her bed. Beca isn’t there, which can only mean one thing – she’s the one who found her.

Well, _fuck_ , Chloe thinks as she hears footsteps padding up the stairs, towards the room. She knows it’s Beca; the Bellas are all out for a picnic if she remembers correctly. (It had been arranged quickly the night before, when she'd been half passed out on the couch.)

The door is pushed open, and the redhead blinks blearily up at her girlfriend, attempting to seem somewhat awake.

As soon as Beca sees that Chloe’s conscious, she rushes to her side, immediately rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Are you okay?” she asks, her voice soft. Very soft. _Soft like silk_ , Chloe thinks as her vision swims a little.

“My eyes sting,” she mumbles, unsure if Beca can even hear her. From the anxious expression now painting her girlfriend’s face, it’s clear that she did.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question is asked gently, very gently, so as not to startle her, but Chloe easily detects the hurt laced within the brunette's tone.

Guilt pools in her stomach. Why hadn’t she told Beca again? Oh yes, the worrying that had been sure to come of it.

“Didn’t want you to worry.” Chloe's words are a little slurred together, and she finds her throat catching. “Water,” she croaks out. Beca’s already lifting the glass to her lips, helping her tip the icy liquid down her throat. It feels nice. Very nice. And very cold.

There’s a pause, and Chloe knows, even with her eyes closed, that her girlfriend is thinking. About what, she’s no idea.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” The voice is small, and oddly vulnerable, which is unlike Beca. Chloe blinks her eyes open and gasps softly as she sees glistening tears dripping down the brunette’s cheeks.

She launches herself forward, ignoring the splitting pain in her skull as she envelops the tiny brunette in a tight bear hug. Beca buries her head into Chloe’s shoulder, tears still leaking from her eyes.

“Baby, I didn’t want to worry you,” the redhead says steadily, her voice slightly hoarse.

“But you’re sick, Chlo,” Beca protests, her voice wet with tears. “I didn’t even realise. I’m such a bad person. I’m such a bad girlfriend.” The brunette is openly sobbing now, her arms wrapped tightly around her own torso protectively.

“No, Becs. No. You’re not a bad person, or a bad girlfriend. I love you. I just didn’t want you to worry,” Chloe explains, brushing chocolate locks away from navy blue eyes.

“I should have noticed,” Beca insists, her body shaking with sobs. The redhead hooks a finger under her chin and tilts it upwards, so their gazes meet. She regards the brunette with a tender expression, her stomach twisting as she watches the brunette cry.

“I was trying to hide it.” Guilt slashes through her. She’d been trying to be helpful by keeping her sickness from her girlfriend, but had only succeeded in upsetting her. _This is my fault_.

“Please don’t, Chlo. I need to know, or—or I get worried. Worried I’ll lose you, and I _can’t_ lose you, I really can’t,” Beca confesses, nuzzling again into the redhead's shoulder. The brunette presses her lips against the hot skin softly, eliciting a small sigh of content from her girlfriend.

“I’ll tell you, Becs, I promise. Next time I’ll say,” Chloe vows, her tone deadly serious.

When Beca leans in for a proper kiss, Chloe reluctantly pushes her away, claiming she doesn’t want her to catch the sickness.

The brunette laughs, a loud hearty laugh that fills the room, and, despite her hacking cough, Chloe smiles.


	82. cuddle buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #82:  
> stacie hires a cuddle buddy for beca without her permission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was _so_ fun to write oh my god! enjoy it :)

“You did _what_?”

“I hired you a cuddle buddy,” Stacie repeats, smirking as Beca shoots her a sharp glare and begins to pace the length of her kitchen. The tiny brunette smacks a hand to her forehead as she pauses to stare out of the window. Stacie has to admit, she does feel a _little_  guilty for going ahead and calling some woman — _“Chloe Beale, 24, lover of all things”_ to be exact — to Beca's apartment without warning the brunette first.

“Is that even a thing? Are you sure a creepy old man isn't going to turn up, demanding me to strip off and “cuddle” with him?” Beca looks vaguely bewildered as she speaks, as though she can't really believe what she's saying. Stacie giggles as the brunette sighs, rubs her eyes and resumes her pacing.

Stacie pulls out her phone and opens up the website, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to find Chloe Beale's profile. She understands that Beca's wary — hell, she was too when Fat Amy first told her about it. She'd been sure it wasn't real, but after some extensive research on a few websites, she'd drawn the conclusion that hiring someone to come and cuddle was, in fact, a very real thing.

Perhaps hiring someone for Beca was a step too far, but Stacie's tired of the brunette's refusals to go out and date someone. The brunette won't even get blind drunk and have a one night stand, something Stacie's a little _too_ familiar with. (Frankly, Stacie doesn't know anything when it comes to Beca's sex life. Stacie doesn't even know if the tiny woman has lost her virginity. It's probable that she has, because they're twenty three, but then again, Stacie lost hers at fifteen. What? There was a _really_ hot girl in her class, don't judge.)

Stacie knows Beca isn't a fan of any physical contact, let alone _cuddles_ , but the taller brunette knows that everyone needs a lil' loving every once in a while. Well, preferably more than that, but in Beca's case, widely spaced bursts of contact would have to do. And if Beca won't let her be her cuddle buddy, she's going to hire a goddamn professional.

“Trust me Becs, it's legit.” Stacie holds out her phone to show Beca the profile, complete with a photo of the extremely attractive redhead that's on her way to the apartment as they speak.

“Stace, is that her?” At her best friend's slow nod, Beca claps a hand over her mouth and her eyes fill with a look of nervous panic that Stacie's seen hundreds of times before — she likes to call it the Gay Panic, which Beca obviously _hates_. “Are you _kidding me_? You can't be serious. Why did you pick _her_? She looks like a—like a fucking goddess, and I look like a baby piglet!”

Stacie can't help the loud giggle that escapes her mouth at Beca's inaccurate description of herself. “A baby piglet, really? You're a total catch Becs, just relax. Maybe you could tap that.” The taller woman shoots her best friend a flirty wink for good measure as she takes her phone back and slips it into her pocket. Beca drops her head into her hands and groans, her cheeks heating up at Stacie's suggestive tone.

“ _No_ , Stace, I really can't—”

The loud _ding dong_ of the doorbell interrupts Beca’s panicked train of thought. Stacie grins and slides off the stool at the breakfast island. “That'll be her!” She ignores the loud _fuck you_ that's yelled after her as she marches to the front door and pulls it open, a wide smile stretching across her lips at the sight of Chloe Beale.

“Hi! I'm here for Beca Mitchell?” Stacie grins at the redhead’s enthusiasm; this is going to be just _perfect_. “I’m guessing you’re Stacie Conrad?”

“Yes yes, that’s me. Please, come in,” Stacie says, opening the door wider for Chloe to step in. “I only just told her you were coming, so, uh, she’s a little freaked out right now.”

Chloe giggles as she follows the tall brunette down the hall and through to the kitchen. “Oh that’s _totes_ okay, I’m used to dealing with those kinds of clients! A lot of people find the first session a bit strange.”

The two women enter the kitchen to see Beca slumped over on the counter, muttering something about murdering Stacie under her breath. Stacie rolls her eyes and steps to the side, allowing Chloe to approach the mumbling brunette. “Beca?” Her head snaps up at the sound of a melodic voice, one she knows isn't Stacie's.

Beca's eyes widen at the sight of the woman standing before her — Chloe Beale. Her fiery red hair is swept up in a ponytail, her slightly frizzy curls cascading down her back. Her eyes are bright and blue and _hypnotising_ , and Beca suddenly wonders if she's died and gone to heaven. Surely only an angel's eyes can be _that blue_. They're like an ocean, an ocean Beca's definitely drowning in.

She doesn't seem to care though.

Beca does, however, care that she can't even form a sentence. Her lips open and close awkwardly as she stares at Chloe, dragging her gaze over her smooth tanned neck and down to the defined collarbones that are poking out of her jumper. “Are you done checking me out?” Chloe's amused voice snaps Beca out of her trance, and she blinks rapidly, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“I wasn't—What?”

Chloe giggles softly, the tinkly sound filling the kitchen. “Aw, you're so cute!” That earns a sharp glare from Beca, which only causes the redhead to coo softly and giggle again. “Come on, we should get started. We only have,” Chloe pauses to check her watch, “two hours.”

Beca's eyes widen, because _fuck_ , two hours is a _long time_ for physical contact, especially cuddling. Beca Mitchell does not _cuddle_. She never has, and she isn't sure she wants to now. (It's totally not because of the fact Chloe Beale is fucking _gorgeous_ , and Beca's not sure she'll be able to take responsibility for her actions if they're left alone, pressed against each other.)

“I'm going to leave you to it then,” Stacie announces, already moving towards the front door. “I expect a call as soon as Chloe's gone, and you know that I _will_ call you if you don't call me first.” Beca grumbles her acknowledgement and slips off her seat to walk her best friend out.

“I'm going to fucking murder you Stacie Merizdale Conrad.”

Stacie gasps and frowns, feigning hurt. “My god Mitchell, using my middle name are you? My my, I'm terrified,” she teases. Beca jabs her in the ribs so hard she yelps in pain and jumps to the side, but the clear irritation in Beca's eyes is totally worth it.

As soon as Stacie's gone, Beca sighs. Time to endure two hours of physical contact with a complete — albeit hot — stranger. She makes her way back to the kitchen slowly, trying to waste as much time as she can. Chloe's making drinks when she walks in, two mugs set out on the counter and a pan of... something? on the hob. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

Chloe whips round, a wide smile spreading across her lips. “Making hot chocolate!”

“Dude, why the pan? Don't you just spoon the powder into a mug and pour in hot water?”

“Beca Mitchell, are you an animal? That is _not_ how you make hot chocolate. The proper way to make it is with hot milk, warmed on the hob. You can do it in the microwave but I find it a little—” Beca stops listening then, too mesmerised by Chloe's twinkling blue eyes and the way her lips move as she talks. God, those lips, so soft and delicious. Beca finds herself wanting to kiss them, which is hardly a surprise because _damn_ , who wouldn't?

What is a surprise though, is that she's having these thoughts at all.

Sure, Beca finds people attractive, but she's never been quite this attracted to anyone before. Despite her badass exterior, she's actually quite a baby when it comes to the department of sex. (She'll never admit this to _anyone_ , not even Stacie.) Beca imagines Chloe is very experienced in that particular field, which is why her thoughts scare her. If they ever did... you know, _it_ — which Beca's sure will never happen — she'd be lacking significantly in skill.

Anyway, it's not something she needs to think about. Chloe's here to cuddle, and nothing else.

“—and here it is!” Beca's jolted back to reality as a steaming mug of hot chocolate is pushed into her hand, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. She frowns, because she definitely doesn't own either of those things. Somehow, the idea of Chloe bringing them with her seems entirely plausible.

“Um, thanks.”

“So, wanna get started?” Beca just shrugs awkwardly, which Chloe must take as a yes, because she beams and it’s _beautiful_. “Hey, you can’t wear that,” the redhead says, letting her gaze flick over Beca’s tight skinny jeans and flannel shirt.

“See something you like?” Beca almost gasps as she words tumble from her lips. Since when does she flirt with anyone, let alone pretty women that are probably straight and most definitely out of her league.

Chloe’s answer surprises her even more. “Oh yes, you’re hot, but jeans are awful for cuddling. Go change into your pyjamas,” she instructs, seemingly unfazed as she admits her attraction to the small brunette.

Beca blinks rapidly, trying to wrap her head around what just happened. She’s officially had two of her “firsts”; flirting with a hot stranger _and_ having them flirt back. Beca’s not sure if Chloe’s quick response can be classed at flirting, but it’s more than she’s ever gotten, so she’ll take it.

“I’m—Sure, okay.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, Beca’s standing awkwardly in her bedroom as Chloe rearranges pillows. It’s decidedly weird, having a woman she barely knows moving her stuff around. Beca’s usually very particular about who touches what, but she can’t bring herself to protest as Chloe carefully moves her laptop, her _headphones_ , off her bed and onto her desk.

Beca doesn’t let _anyone_ touch her headphones. But apparently Chloe’s an exception.

“Come and lie down then,” Chloe says, sinking down onto the mattress. She swings her legs up onto the bed and pats the empty space next to each her. Beca just eyes Chloe nervously and takes a hesitant step forwards, not entirely sure whether she should just sit down or wait for the redhead to tell her what she’s meant to do. “I don’t bite, Becs. Well, not unless you want me to.” When Chloe throws her a salacious wink, Beca chokes.

“Chloe, I-I don’t do cuddling,” she begins, frowning softly. Suddenly she wishes she was good at cuddling. She’s starting to find herself actually wanting to press her body to Chloe’s and just _lie there._

“That’s okay Becs, I’ll teach you.” Beca blushes at the nickname and nods, ducking her head. She walks forward slowly and sits down on the edge of her bed. Soft hands land on her shoulders, dragging her back gently so she’s in the middle of the mattress. “Just relax,” Chloe whispers, brushing her thumbs over Beca’s neck. The tension falls away immediately, and the brunette lets her eyelids flutter shut.

God, Chloe’s touch is simply _divine_.

“Now just—” Chloe cuts herself off as she shifts to lie on her side and wraps a hand around Beca’s wrist. She tugs the small woman down next to her, guiding her into the perfect position in front of her. “Okay, are you comfortable?”

“Um, yeah.” Beca squeezes her eyes tightly shut and tries not to think about how close Chloe is to her. They’re not even cuddling yet, and it’s already a bit _too much._ She can feel Chloe’s warm breath ghosting across the back of her neck, caressing her pale skin. Beca wants to either scream, cry, or kiss Chloe. Or all three.

Whatever.

“Great, so now I’m going to wrap an arm around your waist, okay? It’s called spooning,” Chloe explains innocently, shifting closer to Beca until their thighs are almost touching.

Beca groans and covers her face with one hand as her cheeks heat up. “Oh my _god_ , Chloe. I know what spooning is.”

“Okay okay, just checking.”

“Wait, can you just— _Oh_.”

A gentle arm slides round her waist and then she’s being pulled backwards until she’s pressed against another soft, warm body. Beca closes her eyes as she tries not to focus on the way Chloe’s breasts feel, squashed against her back. As she shifts backwards slightly — it’s _definitely_ not so her ass presses into Chloe’s crotch just a little bit more — arousal shoots through her and dampens her underwear. Beca’s eyes widen, because _shit_ , she’s never felt _that_ before.

She’s twenty three for fucks sake, why is she only _just_ experiencing this?

“Relax, Becs,” Chloe breathes, her voice heavy with sleep. Her arm is slung loosely round Beca’s waist, her fingers just a fraction away from the brunette’s breasts.

Beca is the furthest thing from relaxed, right now. How can she be when she’s _this_  turned on. She counts to two hundred seconds before she hears Chloe’s breathing deepen and even out, signalling that she’s asleep. Beca still wants to scream, cry, and kiss Chloe, but now kissing Chloe has been bumped up to the top of the list.

It’s at five hundred seconds that Beca feels Chloe’s hand begin to wander. She wonders, for a split second, if the redhead is awake, but then she realises that Chloe would never knowingly grope a client. Beca tries to ignore how good it feels to have Chloe’s hand brushing over her nipple, but it’s virtually impossible. Especially when her whole boob is taken into the redhead’s hand and _squeezed_.

Beca can’t fight the quiet whimper that tumbles from her lips as Chloe squeezes again. The brunette draws her bottom lip into her mouth and chews on it furiously as she desperately tries to control the moan threatening to bubble up in her throat.

She can’t help it. She really can’t.

_It’s fine, it’s fine, she’s asleep, she didn’t hear it, she didn’t—_

“Beca?”

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

“Um, yeah?” Beca clears her throat and hopes Chloe doesn’t notice the shake in her voice as she speaks. Goddammit, why can’t she control herself?

“Did you just moan?”

“Um.” Beca pauses, unsure whether she should be honest. Are they at that stage yet? The answer is no, definitely not; they barely know each other. Yet Beca feels a strange urge to open up, which is extremely unusual — read: it’s never happened before — and slightly worrying.

“It’s okay if you did.”

Beca lets out a slow breath, her mind whirring as she tries to form an appropage sentence in her head. Nothing springs to mind, so she wings it. (It may or may not have something to do with the fact she’s still imagining Chloe’s hand palming her breast.) “Well, I—It’s just, um, you were groping my boob and it, um, y’know, felt... nice.” Okay, so that didn’t go well at all. _Definitely think before you speak next time, Mitchell. Way to go._

Beca twists her head round awkwardly to see Chloe’s face turning bright red. The redhead snatches her hand from round Beca’s waist and hugs it to her chest. “Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry.”

“Dude no, it’s fine.”

“I feel like such an idiot.”

“Chloe, it’s okay,” Beca assures, shifting so she’s fully facing Chloe. She pushes herself up on one arm and smiles gently. Chloe’s adorable when she’s all flustered, and it only makes her more attractive. “To be honest, I, well, I liked it,” she admits, surprising herself once again. It seems this whole ‘attracted to Chloe’ thing is making her brave.

“You did?” Chloe looks shocked at the confession, but curiousity fills her eyes at the same time.

“Yeah. I did.”

Chloe stares into Beca’s eyes, trying to read the carefully constructed expression on the brunette’s face. Even she, a master at reading people, is finding it hard to figure out what Beca’s thinking.

“Becs, I’m not meant to—” Chloe starts, biting her lip regretfully. She here to cuddle platonically, and nothing else. Cuddling is her job, dammit. Being painfully attracted to and turned on by clients is _not_ her job.

“Chloe, I—”

Chloe groans under her breath as she stares at Beca. The lust is clear in her stormy blue eyes, and her pupils are blown wide. It’s clear Beca wants her, and she’s tempted, she’s _so_ tempted, but she did sign a contract at work and—

“Fuck it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> left it open in case anyone wanted a second chapter? maybe with some fluffy smut? ;)


	83. coffee machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #83:  
> chloe stops beca from killing herself (i don’t wanna give too much away?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one’s pretty angsty! i wrote it with the hope it would be cathartic.
> 
>  **tw:** centered around suicide

“So this is where you'll be working.” The woman gestures to a small cubicle complete with a desk, a chair and a computer. It’s... bare, to say the least — everything Chloe _isn’t_ — but she supposes that she’s only here to get the job done, not to have fun. Chloe shakes the negativity from her mind, determined to have a good first day, even if it's only selling stupid coffee machines.

(Chloe regrets calling them stupid; she’s extremely grateful for hers, and she uses it at least four times a day, so she can’t exactly complain. She supposes that trying to sell someone a coffee machine is actually a good deed, because who the hell doesn't want a brilliant machine that makes perfect coffee for you? It is a little different having to sell them to companies though; not everyone is willing to purchase five machines at $200 each.)

Chloe listens patiently as the manager hands her a script of phrases to say to practically every possible response they could give to _”hello, I’m calling about your needs for a new coffee machine”_ and talks her through what to do. It seems pretty straight forward, really. It’s not like this is going to be her job forever anyways — it’s only something to pay the bills while she studies for her teaching degree.

“—so that’s everything! Do you feel ready to start?” Chloe nods at the woman, offering a small smile in response. As soon as she’s left alone, she scans the list of numbers she’s supposed to call. Her goal is twenty, since it's her first day. That doesn't sound too bad, right?

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Chloe punches the first number into the keypad and raises the phone to her ear. The line is picked up after three rings, and a hoarse voice comes crackling through the speaker. _“Hello, it's Beca Mitchell from Residual Heat, how can I help?”_ Chloe frowns immediately, because the woman — Beca — sounds like she’s been crying. She blinks away her surprise and clears her throat, knowing it's none of her business. She’s only here to sell coffee machines, not get involved in strangers’ personal lives.

“Hello! My name is Chloe, and I'm calling about your needs for a new coffee machine!” The words are spoken with way too much enthusiasm, even Chloe can acknowledge that, but her general excitement for life has to go somewhere, doesn’t it?

 _“I, um, don't need a new coffee machine,”_ Beca says slowly, confusion evident in her tone. She sniffles quietly and Chloe’s even more convinced she's been crying. It’s hard to swallow down the urge to ask, because that's just who she is, but as Aubrey tells her everyday — _“you can't just go round asking about people’s problems, Chloe!”_ — she knows the questions probably wouldn't be well-received.

Chloe quickly flicks through the provided script to find an appropriate answer to the immediate ‘no’. “Okay, well, why is that?"

Beca doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and Chloe wonders if she's hung up. But then, _“Because I'm going to kill myself.”_ The confession is accompanied by a soft whimper, and Chloe’s heart drops.

“Wow, um,” she pauses, staring down at the stupid book that “has answers to everything they could possibly say”. Chloe’s certain she won't find any answers in the script. “Do you—Do you mind if I ask why?” The redhead hopes Beca doesn't pick up on the slight uncertainty in her voice. She’s never done _this_ before, so she’s kind of — definitely — winging it. (Chloe likes to think she offers good advice, and she knows she's a great listener, so she hopes she’ll be able to help in some way.)

_“I’m working, um, at this record company, and I have been for five years now, and I’m invisible. No one even knows who I am. No one cares. I have no purpose in this world anymore.”_

Chloe’s horrified at the words spilling from Beca’s mouth. How can she say that? Everyone has a purpose. Chloe may not know Beca, but she's now determined to prove to her that killing herself is not the right way to leave the world. Beca can’t be much older than her; she has _so much_ to live for.

“Beca, that's not true. What about your friends and family? A boyfriend? Don't they care?” At Beca’s humorless laugh, Chloe frowns. “Oh sorry, girlfriend then?”

 _“Dude no, it’s not that. I don't have any friends or family. My mom says she “won’t have a dyke for a daughter”, my dad thinks I’m an embarrassment, and all my friends left me after—after... after my last s-suicide attempt.”_ The line goes silent then. Chloe stares down at her desk, tears welling up in her eyes as Beca’s words sink in. She closes her eyes and lets the tears roll down her cheeks.

“Oh Beca...”

Beca barks another empty laugh and clears her throat. _“Look, what I’m trying to say, is that no one gives a shit. I may as well just put myself out of my misery. It’s not like anyone’s going to care, or even notice.”_

“I care.”

 _“Chloe, you don't know me. If you did, you'd feel the same way. I’m better off dead.”_ Beca can’t help the way her stomach twists as Chloe lets out a soft cry of protest. She looks around at her colleagues, watching blankly as they talk and laugh together. It hurts, it really fucking hurts.

“Hey, now that's not true,” Chloe says firmly, tears still dripping down her cheeks. “You have so much to live for, Beca. Please, this is not the way to go. Just let me help you,” she begs, clutching the phone tightly in her hand. Chloe wishes she was there, with Beca, so she could tell her face-to-face just how important she is.

 _“This is a waste of time. No, we don't need any coffee machines. Thanks for calling.”_ Beca sighs heavily down the line and moves her finger to the 'end call' button.

“Beca, wait!” Chloe says loudly, the words coming out slightly strangled. The line goes dead. The redhead chokes on her tears as she lets the phone fall from her grip and clatter onto the desk. The man in the cubicle beside her looks across and shoots her an odd look, which Chloe guesses is meant to say “are you okay”.

_I can’t just sit here, knowing Beca's not okay. I can’t let her do this._

Chloe stands up abruptly and grabs her handbag, googling the address for Residual Heat in her phone as she does so. She mumbles the address repeatedly under her breath as she marches towards the exit. Work can wait for now. “Mrs Green, I have a family emergency. Is it okay if I go?” Chloe says to the manager, desperately hoping she’ll get permission to leave. Hell, even if she doesn’t, she's going anyway. It’d just be nice not to be fired on her first day.

“Yes yes of course, let me know if things are okay. Take as much time as you need.” Chloe’s surprised at the woman’s immediate compassion, but thanks her with a weak smile and rushes from the building.

Time to go save a life.

* * *

Chloe arrives at Residual Heat ten minutes later. She parks haphazardly in the car park and practically falls out of her seat in her haste to get inside. She runs into the building, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she hurriedly tells the receptionist she’s here for Beca Mitchell.

When she gets told there apparently “isn't a Beca Mitchell”, Chloe ignores her and walks through to the office. She scans the room quickly, hoping she’ll be able to work out who Beca is through process of elimination. As soon as she spots a small brunette sat in the corner of the room, her head in her hands, Chloe knows it’s her.

The redhead runs to the woman’s desk, tears of relief welling up in her eyes. “Beca, oh thank god, there you are,” she breathes. Beca’s head snaps up at the familiar voice, a strained smile stretching across her lips as she stares at Chloe. She momentarily forgets how to breathe, because Chloe is _gorgeous_.

The fiery red hair and startlingly blue eyes coax a genuine smile out of her, but then Beca just remembers that Chloe’s too attractive, too nice, to care about her. She probably has a boyfriend, tons of friends and loving parents.

“Hi,” Beca croaks, rubbing her eyes. Chloe takes in the brunette’s appearance, her heart breaking just a little bit more every second. She has dark circles under her eyes indicating her many sleepless nights, her cheeks are sunken and she looks a little thinner than Chloe would deem healthy. Her eyes are dull, void of light, and it makes Chloe’s heart _ache_.

“Hey.” Chloe pulls up a chair from an empty desk nearby and sits down. “So, um, I can’t let you kill yourself. You’re young, Beca, there’s so much for you to look forward. Think of all the wonders in this world. How could you miss out on that?”

“Easy for you to say,” Beca retorts, scoffing. “You probably have a boyfriend, loads of friends, a good life. You don't know what it’s like.” Chloe flinches slightly at Beca's harsh tone, but she brushes it off as soon as she sees the brunette’s guilty expression. She offers a smile in acceptance of the silent apology and clears her throat.

“I'm actually gay, so no boyfriend. Well, that’s a lie. I’m bisexual, but I prefer girls and—Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re right, I do have lots of friends and I’m happy, but I can relate to how you feel more than you think.” Chloe pauses to gather her thoughts and mentally prepare herself for what she's about to say. When Beca shoots her a doubtful look, she continues. “My mom, um, killed herself when I was nine.”

“Chloe, I-I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, I mean, it was a long time ago, so I'm okay now. I just—Well, after that, my dad would get drunk a lot a-and hit me. It felt like I had no control over my life, so I...” Chloe rolls up the sleeve of her cardigan to reveal faint white lines running up her forearm. Beca’s eyes fill with tears, horrified at what the redhead had gone through at such a young age. “I won't go into detail; that’s a story for another day, but what I'm trying to say is, I know what you’re going through. And it _does_ get better. I promise.”

Beca drops her head into her hands as her shoulders begin to shake, sobs wracking through her body. Chloe moves the chair closer to the trembling brunette and wraps an arm tentatively round her shoulders. “Don’t go through with it, please,” she murmurs, rubbing Beca’s arm soothingly.

Chloe can’t help the small smile that stretches across her lips when Beca nods, her fingers curling into the redhead’s cardigan. She holds on tightly, her tears soaking through the fabric as she cries.

“Help me, Chlo.”

“Oh I will sweetie, I will.”


	84. season finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #84:  
> “i come to the library every week to ‘study’ but really i’m just watching netflix over your shoulder and i’m really invested in this series and the day we’re supposed to be watching the season finale together you’re not there and i??? feel personally betrayed???” au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy this fluffy sick fic!

Beca’s always cherished the peace and quiet a single dorm offers, the silence she wakes up to in the morning, the freedom she has to walk around naked if she feels like it. (She swears she doesn’t do it often.) Living alone enables her to spend evenings doing what she pleases, instead of curled up on her bed with her headphones planted firmly over her ears.

She’s always been a bit of a lone ranger — or just a “loner”, as she’d been called in high school — so having a dorm to herself is pure bliss. But, despite all its pros, living alone does have its cons.

For starters, Beca isn’t the best at taking care of herself. Sure, she eats (occasionally) and showers everyday, but she doesn’t know how to cook — hence all the pot noodles stashed in her cupboards — and she doesn’t really know how to do her own laundry, or ironing, for that matter.

She blames it on the fact she’d been left to her own devices as a child, and had never been taught how to properly look after herself. All she knows comes from watching various television programmes and the odd YouTube video.

 _Anyway_.

Despite all that, Beca thinks she’s doing pretty well. She’s (relatively) healthy, has decent grades, and she has a job at the college radio station that doesn’t make her want to walk on hot coals.

But when Beca wakes up one morning to a sharp rapping on her door, she’s reminded of the two weeks she spent with a roommate when she first joined Barden. (It’s a long story as to why she now has her own room.)

Beca’s also reminded of how sick she is.

She ignores the impatient knocking and buries her head further into her pillow, a soft moan of comfort escaping her lips. Sleep is just tugging her back to its wonderful world of sunshine and rainbows — Beca _definitely_ doesn’t dream about fairies and unicorns; _definitely_ not — when there’s another loud knock.

Grumbling under her breath, Beca props herself up in bed and blinks slowly. Her eyes take slightly longer to focus than usual, and even then, the world is slightly fuzzy. A wave of nausea hits her as she peels back her duvet and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. She clamps a hand to her mouth and fights back the urge to throw up, trying desperately to ignore the loud knocking at her door.

Beca realises two minutes later that whoever it is just _isn’t_ going to stop, so she reluctantly stands up and pads across her room. She knows she looks like she’s just been dragged through a bush backwards, but she’s ill, and that’s a good enough excuse. It’s impossible not to grimace at her reflection in the mirror as she passes though; she looks almost ghostly.

It takes Beca a while to open the door; she fumbles with the lock for a while — let’s face it, she’s never been particularly gifted with her limbs — and then has trouble actually yanking the damn thing open. She finally succeeds moments later, and is met with the sight of a girl, perhaps a little older than her, with fiery red hair and bright blue eyes. Her eyebrows are pulled into a frown, and she has her arms folded across her chest, which Beca knows never means good news.

Beca squints as she stares blearily at the girl, the bright fluorescent lights of the hall forcing her eyes closed. She doesn’t have a chance to open her mouth and ask why the hell she’s being woken at... sometime in the morning, on a _Saturday_. Saturday’s are for sleeping and Netflix, not for being woken up by annoyed strangers.

The redhead launches straight into what she — presumably — came to say. (Beca’s grateful for that, at least, because the art of being direct is extremely underrated these days.)

“You left me! I thought we had a thing going on! You didn’t come. You stood me up,” the redhead yells, her expression half hurt, half angry. She gesticulates wildly with her hands as she speaks — Beca guesses she does some kind of art, be it acting or music-based. She always has been particularly good at reading people.

But Beca really isn’t good at waking up quickly, nor does she respond well to being yelled at, whatever time it is. It’s not until she opens her mouth to shout back that she realises she has _no fucking clue_ what the redhead is on about. The fact she’s ill and still half-asleep doesn’t help, but it doesn’t change the fact she’s completely bewildered.

Beca’s sure she recognises the girl from somewhere, perhaps they share a class together. She’s seen her around campus with her friends, laughing and chatting with a huge smile painted on her face. It’s safe to say that Beca has a _tiny_ (read: huge) crush on her, even though they’ve never talked and she doesn’t even know the redhead’s name.

Beca only realises she hasn’t replied when the girl clears her throat and narrows her eyes. “Um, what?” It’s not the best of replies, but frankly, she doesn’t know what else to say.

The redhead sighs quietly, her previously annoyed expression morphing into one of concern as she drags her eyes over Beca’s body. She takes in pale, translucent skin and the bruises beneath her eyes; she wonders how much sleep the brunette got last night.

”The library. You didn’t come yesterday. We were supposed to watch the last episode of Dynasty together,” she explains softly, a hint of betrayal lacing her tone.

“Wait, what?” Beca watches the new episode of Dynasty every Friday in the library at 4pm after her last class. The first time she’d genuinely gone to study, but the show had caught her eye when she’d been casually browsing Netflix’s new releases and she’d ended up watching it instead. And so her weekly “study” sessions had turned into “sit and watch Dynasty with her textbook open” sessions.

Now that Beca thinks about it, the redhead also studies in the library on Fridays. (She has a bad memory, sue her.) The brunette never realised she’d had company the whole time. And the girl had watched without the volume the whole time? God, that’s a crime in itself. Thank god Beca puts the subtitles on — she prefers it, okay?

“We’ve watched the whole season together, and today you didn’t turn up. I felt kinda betrayed,” the redhead says, cracking a small smile. Beca finds herself smiling back, despite her rolling stomach and spinning head. _Ah, I really need to sit down._

“Sorry, I’m just—I’m ill,” she croaks, unable to help the way she sways slightly on her feet as another wave of nausea washes over her. She presses a hand to her chest to ground herself and offers the redhead an apologetic smile.

“Oh you poor thing, I noticed. Do you mind if I come in? You need someone to look after you. Do you have a temperature? God, you look really pale.” The girl doesn’t give Beca a chance to reply before she marches inside and makes a beeline for the small kitchenette. (Another bonus of having a single dorm.) “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

Beca nods silently as she closes the door and follows the older girl across the room. She watches as Chloe begins opening and closing her cupboards, a small frown forming on her face as she comes away empty handed. “Becs, where’s all your food?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot of things,” is Chloe’s sly response; Beca doesn’t know if she should be worried at the vagueness of it all. “Hey, you’re avoiding my question. Why don’t you have any proper food?”

Beca looks away and shrugs guiltily. She doesn’t _really_ eat much since she’s grown up eating the bare minimum, not to mention the fact she can’t cook to save her life. “I have pot noodle,” the brunette protests weakly, fiddling with the hem of her oversized shirt.

“Pot noodle doesn’t count.”

Beca shifts uncomfortably under Chloe’s intense stare, wondering what she’s meant to say in response. Finally, after what seems like forever, the redhead clears her throat and glances away. “I’m going to get you some proper food. Get back into bed,” she instructs, her voice softer than Beca expected. She’s almost surprised Chloe hadn’t gotten angry at the lack of food in her dorm, but the redhead doesn’t really seem like a particularly angry person.

Chloe walks out without another word, the door clicking shut behind her. Beca stares at the closed door, slightly dumbfounded. They barely know each other, and here Chloe is, giving up her day to take care of her. Beca wipes away the grateful tears welling in her eyes before they can fall, and shuffles back over to her bed.

She sinks into the mattress gladly, wrapping her duvet around her small body as she snuggles into the intoxicating warmth. Only a few minutes pass before Beca’s eyelids begin to slip shut, a mixture of tiredness and illness dragging her into a deep sleep.

* * *

Chloe rolls her eyes when she finds Beca’s door unlocked. She walks in, unsurprised to find the room dark and silent. Assuming Beca’s asleep in bed, the redhead flips on the lucky dumps the bags on the counter, pulling out ingredients to make soup. Once done, Chloe cuts a slice of bread from the fresh loaf she’d picked up and places the food on a tray, along with a mug of steaming herbal tea.

She carries the tray over to Beca’s bed and places it on the side. Chloe gently pulls back the covers to see the brunette curled up in the fetal position, her face buried in her blankets. She looks simply adorable, her nose tinged red from sniffling, her soft hair strewn across her face.

Chloe gently shakes Beca awake almost reluctantly and brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Come on Becs, wake up,” she whispers softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Beca stirs and whines quietly, burying her face further into her pillow.

Giggling, Chloe pokes her cheek a few times. “Chlo?” Beca mumbles, rolling over in bed. She blinks slowly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light of her dorm. She’s greeted with the sight of a softly smiling Chloe, her baby blues twinkling.

“I made you soup and tea,” the redhead says brightly as soon as Beca looks up at her. The brunette scoots over silently to make room for Chloe to sit down, trying to fight back the tears that prick at the corners of her eyes. Chloe frowns with concern as she sees the tears dripping down her cheeks. "Sweetie, what's wrong? Are you in pain?" She reaches out to cup Beca's cheek, brushing her thumb gently over the dusting of freckles across her pale skin.

“No one has ever taken care of me before,” Beca mumbles quietly, leaning into Chloe's palm as her eyes flutter shut contentedly. She raises a hand to wipe away her tears and offers the redhead a grateful smile as she pulls away to accept the tray that's pushed into her lap.

“I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere,” Chloe assures, pressing a kiss to the brunette's sticky temple. She pulls up the covers and slips into bed, a soft sigh slipping from her lips as her legs are enveloped in warmth.

She leans over to grab the television remote and flick between channels until she finds Netlfix. “We can watch Dynasty here,” she suggests, settling back against the mountain of pillows.

Beca's grateful for the redhead's casual attitude, acting as though they've been friends for years. It certainly makes things a lot less awkward, since they barely know each other and the younger girl isn't exactly a social butterfly, as they say. She's surprised Chloe is so willing to just give up her time for a practical stranger, but she isn't about to push her away.

But she also doesn't want Chloe to get ill either.

“Wait, I'm—You don’t want my germs,” Beca protests weakly as Chloe shifts around, trying to get comfortable. She ignores the sick brunette as she arranges the fluffy blanket and a produces a soup spoon from nowhere. (Beca presumes she must have bought it, since she definitely doesn't own anything as fancy as a soup spoon.)

Chloe waves Beca's concern away with a flick of her wrist and wraps an arm around the brunette's shoulders. “Hey, enough of that. I'm here to take care of you, so no complaining. I have a good immune system anyway.”

As the season finale begins, Beca allows herself to snuggle into Chloe's body, drawing comfort from the warmth radiating from her skin. The redhead grins as she runs her hands through the tiny girl's hair, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders immediately. She presses a kiss to the brunette's forehead and turns her attention back to the television screen, her eyes lighting up as the camera cuts to Fallon and her father.

_Well this turned out better than expected._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven’t already watched dynasty, you should. it’s sO DAMN GOOD


	85. mute (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #85:  
> chloe saves a mute beca from some bullies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the _fuck_ this was meant to be a “short oneshot” to clear my writers block. instead, it ended up being 2,900 (ish) words of nonsense. ANYWAY, i apologise for my four day (?) absence; i really wasn’t in the mood to write. i kind of forced myself to today until it flowed in an attempt to clear the block. i think it worked.
> 
> i rewrote this about four times, and i’m still unsure, but here i am, uploading it anyways. enjoy, if you can!

Beca’s ten when people stop listening to what she has to say.

It starts with small things, like being told to shut up at the dinner table, or being shoved aside when her friends decide the stories about her new kitten Sooty — she’s ten, don't blame her for the unoriginal name — are boring. Her bubbly, talkative attitude has gotten her in trouble more times than she can count — her voice is always a little louder than the others, her laugh just a bit too infectious.

After being shouted at by her teacher for talking when she isn’t supposed to, Beca starts to quieten down. She realises that trying to impress her friends by being loud and funny isn’t worth the slap to her cheek from her father and the stern words from her mother when she gets home that evening.

And since she’s no longer providing the entertainment they crave, her “friends” decide she just isn’t worth their time anymore.

Beca slowly draws into herself, like any isolated child would, and pours everything she has into other things. She discovers her passion for music through her lack of social interaction — she spends many an evening hiding in her room, scribbling down angsty song lyrics as tears slide down her cheeks.

She’s eleven when the fighting starts. All the whispered arguments and tightly gripped wrists she pushed from her mind over the past few months suddenly come flooding back. Raised voices, smashed glasses and slammed doors become a daily occurrence.

Beca comes home one day, her Maths test clutched tightly in one hand, a big red A+ scrawled at the top, and a proud smile on her face. Her momentary happiness brings back the naivety she’s worked so hard to shake, and she pulls open the door, hoping to see her mother in the kitchen cooking and her father reading the paper like they used to _before_.

Instead, she sees her mother pressed roughly against the door, her father's fingers wrapped tightly around her throat.

She cries and screams and begs them to stop, like any scared, confused child would. (When she closes her eyes, Beca can still picture the murderous glare her father shot her as he spun round, his eyes ablaze.) All she gets is a sharp slap to the face and a promise that if she ever opens her mouth again she'll be killed.

At the time, she takes it very literally.

From that day, she doesn’t speak another word. Even when her father finally leaves for good, slamming the door behind him, Beca doesn’t speak. She doesn’t speak when her mother asks her to, she doesn’t speak when her teachers ask her too. She doesn’t speak for anyone. She even stops singing. (She still mouths song lyrics, pretending she’s performing at Madison Square Garden with her hairbrush as her microphone.)

Beca never really minded the loneliness that comes with it. She doesn’t have any friends anyway, so she isn’t losing much. Her school work doesn’t suffer — she’s intelligent enough to get by without asking questions, and even if she does get stuck, she just comes home and teaches herself anything she doesn’t understand.

Her mother gives up when she’s twelve, and instead turns to drinking and daily hook-ups to get her through her post-divorce depression. Beca watches her mother suffer, too starved of social skills to know how to help. Slowly, her mother even stops acknowledging her presence. Beca cooks her own meals, deals with her own problems, takes care of her own needs.

When the time comes for her to apply for college, all Beca does is shove the forms under her mother’s nose and point to the dotted lines. She pays for her own college tuition — with her mother’s money, of course — and takes care of all the necessary paperwork.

(Beca only finds out her grandparents died in a car accident two weeks before she’s due to travel to Atlanta. Apparently they were billionaires, and have left her hundreds of thousands of dollars in her bank account. Beca almost feels guilty that she only feels grateful for their death, but it’s not like she knew them personally, so she supposes her lack of sorrow can’t really be helped.)

She leaves, two weeks later, without a goodbye. Her mother is upstairs with some guy as she lugs her cases out to the taxi and shuts the door behind her. Beca takes a moment to say goodbye, dragging her eyes over the large suburban house she spent her miserable eighteen years of existence in.

After an impatient _hurry up_ from the taxi driver, Beca leaves without looking back.

* * *

Beca sighs heavily as she listens to her Philosophy professor drone _on and on_ about morals and ethics — something she really couldn’t care less about.

It’s been a month since she arrived at Barden University, 2700 miles from her home in Portland. She hasn’t heard from her mother since, which is hardly surprising. She doubts her mother has even noticed she’s gone.

True to her childhood, Beca hasn’t made any friends. She’s tried to keep herself to herself; she hasn’t engaged with anyone, apart from the awkward email she’d been forced to send to her professors at the start of the semester to let them know she’s mute. Apparently it’s school policy to _inform your professors of any disabilities or learning difficulites before the first lecture of the semester._

Beca was glad she was able to let them know via email, since handing in a messily scribbled note is a hell of a lot more awkward. She lacks significant skill when it comes to any kind of social interaction, even something as simple as maintaining eye contact.

Sometimes Beca wishes she wasn’t mute. It’s got her into more tricky situations than she can count. She learnt at an early age that carrying a notebook and pen on her at all times is  _essential_.

People often assume she’s just rude — it’s hard to think otherwise when she can’t easily apologise for simple mistakes.

Beca’s managed to keep her head down for the most part. She weaves between throngs of people, clutching her books to her chest with her earphones tucked safely in her ears. She’s only had one particularly bad run-in — it’s been three weeks and it still plagues her mind night and day.

* * *

_Beca stares firmly at her feet as she hurries down the corridor, relieved that her last lecture for the week is finally over. She’s free. Modern History is mildly intriguing, but not captivating enough to hold her attention for a full ninety minutes. Her asshole professor definitely doesn’t make matters any better.  
_

_She supposes not looking where she’s going in a corridor full of people probably isn’t the best idea, because one minute she’s bobbing her head to her music, and the next, she’s on the floor._

_Pain radiates through her hip as she topples over, her books slipping from her grasp. Ignoring the throbbing of her hip, Beca pushes herself up from her awkward position on the floor and looks around. People around have stopped, and are now staring at her. Beca’s cheeks heat up in embarrassment; she’s unused to all eyes being on her. It’s been eight years since she’s been the centre of attention, and it’s not something she misses._

_Beca tries to ignore the knot the tightens in her stomach as she looks around, trying to shake away the dizziness. She sees a girl running towards her, her expression apologetic. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit, let me help you.” The girl extends a hand, which Beca takes gratefully._

_As her vision clears, she realises just how gorgeous the girl is. She’s clearly older, a Sophomore perhaps, with fiery red curls and bright blue eyes. Beca tries not to focus on how soft the redhead’s hands are, or how white her teeth are when she smiles._

_Beca’s never wanted to talk more than in that moment._

_She wishes she could thank the gorgeous girl properly, but instead she just offers her a timid smile, her cheeks reddening more by the second. She turns away and scurries off to pick up her books, already trying to rid her mind of those dazzling blue eyes that sparkle like hers used to, all those years ago._

_Had she looked back, she would have seen the redhead staring at her, a flicker of hurt passing through those bright eyes._

* * *

Beca’s only problem is that the professor currently jabbering on at the front of the classroom, isn’t her usual professor. Mr Holden — or Malcom, as he likes to be called — is apparently off sick, which Beca thinks it’s highly unlikely. She suspects he’s just hung over from the night before — it’s not unlike him to come in slightly drunk from the previous night.

Usually, Beca would be pleased that the sexist douchebag isn’t at the front of the room. But Mrs Straker — she simply refuses to respond to Jackie — doesn’t know she’s mute, and she has a reputation for picking on the quietest of students simply for her own pleasure.

At least Mr Holden leaves her alone.

Beca tries to keep her head down and avoid eye contact, but clearly that had been the wrong thing to do, because suddenly she hears a sharp, “Miss Mitchell,” and her head snaps up.

Panic rises inside her immediately, clawing at her throat. Her heart hammers in her chest as she forces her gaze towards Mrs Straker. The woman shoots her a warning glare, before opening her mouth to ask her opinion about an “ethically challenging situation”.

Beca barely listens to her words, too focused on the suffocating tightness in her chest and the pounding of her heartbeat in her rib cage. It’s only when she realises everyone is staring at her, expecting an answer to the problem, that she properly panics.

She pushes back her chair abruptly and rises, hugging her stomach as she makes her way towards the door. She ignores Mrs Straker’s angry shouts, telling her to _get back in here right now_  and flees the classroom.

It takes fifteen minutes of deep breathing, sat on a toilet lid in the girls bathrooms, to calm Beca down.

By the time she’s ready to leave, her heart beating steadily, her lecture is over — just in time for her to slip back into the room and grab her bag. She weaves easily through the crowds of people pushing and shoving to escape back to their dorms, away from their classrooms.

Beca’s nearly there, nearly at the door, when she feels a tap on her shoulder.

She spins round, her eyes widening with fear when she sees three boys standing in front of her, all smirking cockily. It’s Bumper, Jesse and Tom, the school bullies. Beca’s managed to avoid them so far, ducking behind pillars and scurrying out of sight when they get too close, but she supposes it’s time for her to have her “turn” with them.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the mute,” Bumper starts, stepping forwards. There’s a malicious glint in his eyes that reminds Beca of her father just a little too much. She steps backwards instinctively, panic coursing through her when her back hits the wall.

She’s trapped.

“You want us to leave you alone?” Beca nods slowly, placing one hand on her stomach as she tries to focus on her breathing like the YouTube video said. “Well you’re going to have to ask us. It’s that simple. Ask us go, and we will.”

Bumper laughs as she speaks, prompting the other two to join in. Beca gets the impression they’re only there to support their best friend, too scared to put a stop to his merciless bullying. (Beca’s heard that Tom’s a total jerk, but apparently Jesse is almost decent. She’s seen him with his girlfriend a few times, and she seems to be happy. Perhaps he just got caught up in Bumper’s schemes and hasn’t felt able to leave.)

“Jeez, it’s like talking to a fucking brick wall,” Tom mutters, glaring at Beca. She closes her eyes in response, desperately clinging onto any shattered fragment of reality she can.

“If you’re not going to say anything, I guess I’m just going to have to teach you a lesson,” Bumper snarls, advancing towards the small brunette. He stops millimetres away from her, his breath mingling with hers as he narrows his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Beca squeezes her eyes tightly shut and waits for something, _anything_ , to happen. She can’t escape. She’s physically trapped; there’s no way she can overpower Bumper, and even if she could, she doesn’t know how. (The decision not to teach herself karate when she was fourteen was probably (read: definitely) a bad one.)

“Step away, Bumper.”

Beca’s eyes fly open when she hears the voice, a decidedly female voice. It’s the same redhead she bumped into a few weeks ago, the same redhead she hasn’t been able to get out of her mind. She now knows the girl’s name is Chloe Beale — she’s the head of the cheerleading team and one of the most popular people at Barden.

(Beca overhead some other freshmen saying that _everyone_ has a crush on her, boys and girls alike. Chloe’s also bisexual, according to most of the college. Beca has no idea whether the rumour is true, but she doesn’t want to assume. Whether she hopes Chloe is into girls is a totally different matter.)

As Bumper steps away and drops his raised fist to his side, Beca’s eyebrows crease into a small frown. Chloe’s clearly authoritative, enough to make even Bumper stand down, but why would she want to help? Of course, Beca’s grateful, but she just doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know Chloe, apart from that the brief (literal) collision, which hardly counts for anything.

“Now leave, and take those two scumbags with you,” Chloe snaps, nodding towards Tom and Jesse. Bumper nods silently and slinks off, his friends following him obediently.

Beca relaxes significantly when the bullies turn the corner, glad they’re finally out of sight. (At this point, she would say _out of sight, out of mind_ , but she knows it doesn’t work like that. If it did, she wouldn’t have had Chloe Beale plaguing her thoughts for the last three weeks.)

“Hey, are you okay?” Chloe steps towards Beca, a warm, friendly smile stretching across her lips. The brunette nods, hoping her expression conveys her gratitude. “I’m glad I managed to get here in time.”

Beca frowns then, and reaches into her pocket for her notepad and pen. Chloe waits patiently as she flips open the cover and begins scribbling on the next clean page. When she’s done, Beca turns the notepad round and holds it to her chest. She watches, her heart in her throat, as Chloe scans the words quickly.

[ _Why did you stop them? You don’t even know who I am._ ]

“I do know who you are. You’re Beca Mitchell, you live in dorm 309, and you’re mute. I may have checked the system to find your room number. I totally didn’t mean to be creepy, sorry,” Chloe rambles, her eyes bright and alive as words tumble from her mouth.

Beca smiles softly as a light blush settles on the redhead’s cheeks. It’s nice to know that she’s not as intimidating alone as she is around other people. She click her pen nib down and scribbles something else.

[ _It’s fine, I don’t think it’s creepy. Thank you for saving me from Bumper._ ]

“Oh god, it’s no problem! I totally didn’t mind.” Chloe beams, her pearly white teeth flashing, and Beca has to use every ounce of self-control she has not to collapse at the sight. _It’s just a stupid crush, you’ll get over it._

[ _Is there any way I can repay you?_ ]

Chloe stands there for a minute, supposedly thinking, but Beca wonders if she’s just trying to build suspense. The telltale glint of mischief in her baby blues gives everything away. “There is, actually. You can take me out on a date.”

Beca chokes on her own breath then, because _what the fuck_. Chloe Beale, Chloe _fucking_ Beale practically just asked her to go on a date with her. A _date_. With Chloe Beale. Beca’s too stunned to even begin to formulate a response.

Chloe seems to take her silence — metaphorical, of course — in the wrong way, because she immediately tries to backpedal. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— I’m sorry for asking. You totally don’t have to of course and I—”

[ _I’d love to._] Beca makes sure to underline the most important word for maximum effect, since she can’t exactly convey her passion through her speech.

Chloe squeals, and before Beca knows what’s going on, she’s being wrapped up in a tight hug. It’s _completely_ new to her, so awkwardly pats the redhead’s back in the hope the suffocating gesture will be over soon. It’s kind of _nice_ , actually, which Beca hates to admit, but she really wishes she’s better at the whole hugging thing, even if it only to please Chloe.

When Chloe pulls away, a slight frown on her face, Beca’s filled with a strange mixture of guilt and desperation. She wants to be good at hugging _now_.

[ _Long story, but I’ve never really been hugged before. It’s just new to me, sorry._ ]

Chloe nods in understanding, and takes Beca’s hands into her own instead. “I’ll teach you Becs, don’t worry.”

And then she winks, and Beca’s stomach flips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do apologise if it wasn’t great. it was only written to try and clear my writers block. i got the idea at school today from one of my friends who said that talking to this really quiet girl was like “talking to a fucking brick wall”, which obviously got me thinking about beca!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it! let me know if you did :)


	86. mute (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #86:  
> beca tells chloe she loves her (i don’t want to give shit away ahh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got many requests for a continuance of this, so i decided to write a second one! i didn’t write their date, but instead went with _leapyearbaby29_ ’s prompt of beca telling chloe she loves her.
> 
> it’s quite long, so i hope you all enjoy it!

A year into her relationship with Chloe, Beca starts speech therapy.

She’s started to crave simple conversations with her girlfriend, conversations that don’t involve her stupid notepad and pen. She can no longer ignore the way her gut twists every time Chloe asks her something, only to realise she can’t reply immediately. The redhead says it’s okay, and that she doesn’t mind, but _of course_ she’d say that. Beca’s seen the slight flicker of impatience that flashes through Chloe’s eyes when she’s taking a while to write something more than once.

It’s unfair to ask Chloe to put up with her silence for any longer.

And so Beca decides it’s finally time to start talking again. She’s spent two months toying with the idea, going back on her original decision multiple times. She shouldn’t talk _just_ for Chloe, should she? But it isn’t _just_  for Chloe, it’s for her too. She’s tired of her silence putting a strain on her relationship. A relationship she adores.

Beca’s sure she’s in love with Chloe. She has been for a while, but they haven’t said it yet. Well, Chloe hasn’t said it. Beca hasn’t written it.

She wants to tell her. Properly.

It takes her three days to actually book the appointment — via email, of course. She’s terrified, which she supposes is understandable. She hasn’t spoken a word in eight years, and now she wants to suddenly jump into flowing conversations with her girlfriend.

It’s going to take time, she knows that.

After six months of speech therapy, Beca’s confident enough to have small conversations. Her language is still only basic, and she still says a lot of words phonetically, but it’s something. She hasn’t said a word to Chloe yet, of course; she wants it to be a surprise.

The only problem is that she’s had to lie a _lot_ to make up for her unexplained absences. Her most common excuse is the radio station, because she knows Luke will vouch for her if Chloe ever decides to check she’s telling the truth.

She never does of course. Chloe just takes Beca's word for it and doesn’t question it.

It’s starting to hurt, though. Beca hates lying to Chloe more than _anything_ , and it kills her to have to lie to her face time and time again.

Just two more sessions, and then she’ll be ready.

* * *

_**Becs [12:34pm]:** i’m so sorry baby, i can’t make lunch today. luke’s making me take an extra shift at the radio station to make up for the day i took off sick last week. i miss you :(  
_

_**Chlo [12:51pm]:** It’s fine, I’ll see you when you get back x_

Beca stares at her phone, her brows creasing into a small frown. It’s unlike Chloe to only send one kiss, and even more unlike the redhead brush her off like that. Normally she uses the extra time to study or spend time with Aubrey, but it’s clear, even through text, that something’s wrong.

It doesn’t help that Beca has the memory of a goldfish, and only remembers she double books things minutes before they’re both due to start. This is the fourth time in two months she's had to send an apologetic text to Chloe, claiming she can’t make their date. It’s no surprise that the redhead is finally tired of the excuses.

Clenching her jaw, Beca shoves her phone deep into her pocket and stares out of the window. She’s in the car park of the therapy clinic, still sitting in her car as she waits for an appropriate time to head into the building. The brunette slams her palm into her steering wheel as her stomach twists with guilt.

It’s not fair to Chloe, and she knows it.

This is her last session before her big surprise. She’s been planning it for months, desperate to get every tiny detail right. Beca plans to do it tomorrow, after Chloe gets home from her shift at the campus coffee shop. Everything is ready, she just has to put it into action. She hopes Chloe will forgive her for all the hastily cancelled dates and unexplained absences once she reveals her ability to speak, even though it’s not much.

As soon as the digits on her car dashboard flick to 12:55pm, Beca pulls the keys from the ignition and opens her door.

* * *

“I think this is such a lovely thing to do, Beca.” Her therapist, Jackie, smiles softly as she rises from her chair to see the small brunette out of her office.

Beca smiles in response, excitement flickering in her stomach as she pictures the shock on Chloe's face when she hears those three words. “Um, thank you. I’m ex-excited to tell her,” she says, a proud smile stretching across her lips when she only makes one small mistake.

She’s come so far from the closed off girl she was at the start of her freshman year, her walls built high, nightmares haunting her sleep night after night. Chloe’s done _so much_ for her, and she can't wait to finally start making it up to her.

”I’m so proud of you. You've made so much progress,” Jackie says proudly, grinning. “Tell me how it goes next week.”

Beca slips on her coat and steps out of the blonde woman's office, turning back round to look at her. “I will,” she promises, already pulling out her phone to tell Chloe she'll be home soon. She can’t wait to pull the redhead into her arms and curl up on the couch with her, pressing soft, sleepy kisses to her neck as they watch Netflix.

It’s with this warming image in her head that Beca runs out to her car and shoves her key into the ignition, determined to make it home to Chloe as quickly as she can.

* * *

Beca walks in to see Chloe sat on the couch, a stony expression on her face. Concern fills her eyes immediately; the redhead is rarely seen without her signature smile painted across her face. Beca kicks off her shoes and rushes over to her girlfriend, fighting the urge to fiddle with the hem of her shirt. It’s a nervous tic Chloe's been trying to get her to quit for months.

Chloe looks up at her as she walks in, her eyes void of their usual sparkle. Beca frowns, worried she’s the one that's caused her girlfriend’s sudden sombre expression. The brunette grabs her notepad from the coffee table, hoping the slight tremble of her hands isn’t noticeable.

[ _Are you okay? What's wrong?_ ]

“Are you cheating on me?” Chloe asks simply, staring down at her hands. Beca recoils at the question, shocked at the accusative tone. How could she even suggest such a thing? Beca _adores_ Chloe. The notion of her cheating is so ridiculous that it takes the brunette a few minutes to actually wrap her head around it.

[ _What?! No, of course not. Why the hell would you think such a thing?!_ ]

If there’s one thing Beca knows about Chloe, it’s that she can justify every single thing she feels. There’s _always_ a reason behind her feelings, which now worries the brunette immensely. What the fuck has she done to make Chloe accuse her of something as despicable as cheating?

“How about the fact you’re never here anymore? You keep cancelling our dates, apparently for work, but Luke never used to spring shifts on you announced. I know you’re lying, Beca. Do you really hate me so much? Could you not just break up with me instead of running off to fuck someone else?” Chloe’s voice breaks at the end, thick tears rolling down her cheeks as she stares at Beca. The small brunette watches, hurt and confused, as her girlfriend dissolves into sobs, her shoulders shaking with the force of them.

Beca steps towards Chloe, intending to pull her into a hug, but as soon as her fingers brush soft skin, the redhead flinches. “I don’t want your filthy hands on me,” she spits, her voice laced with venom. Beca snatches her hand back and clutches it to her chest, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

[ _Chloe please, I haven’t cheated on you, I swear. I'd never do that to you. ~~I lo~~ You're way too special to me. Please believe me._ ] Beca pushes her notepad into the redhead's face, desperate for her to know the truth. Chloe's eyes flick over the words, but she merely sneers in response and pushes the paper away. The brunette stares, horrified, as tears slide down her flushed cheeks. [ _Do you really think anyone would want to sleep with me? We haven’t even had sex yet Chlo. Hell, I’ve never even had sex. There’s no one else I’d rather lose my virginity to than you. You have to believe me._ ]

Despite her best efforts to get Chloe to read her hurriedly scribbled note, the redhead refuses to even glance towards the sheet of paper. She rises from the couch, her eyes puffy and her cheeks wet with tears. Beca watches her trudge upstairs, choking on her own breath as she fights down her cries.

As soon as she’s alone, she collapses onto the couch and cries, sobs wracking her small frame. How could such an innocent, loving gesture lead to this?

* * *

Beca’s gone when Chloe comes downstairs, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. She barely got a wink of sleep; she’s so used to sleeping with her tiny girlfriend half-sprawled on top of her, soft lips pressed into her neck, wispy dark hair brushing against her bare skin.

She regrets snapping at Beca so much it physically _hurts_. Her stomach twists as she glances towards the couch, taking in the sight of the neatly folded blanket and pajamas sitting at the end. Beca had slept downstairs, too worried about upsetting her further to come up to bed. The thought makes Chloe feel sick.

Her fears are justifiable — Beca has been absent a little more than usual recently, and she blushes guiltily every time Chloe asks her about her extra shifts at the station. But it doesn't mean the brunette is cheating. Now that Chloe’s mind is clear, she realises that she'd made a huge mistake in jumping to conclusions.

She’d been sat alone, wishing Beca was beside her, and her mind had run away with her.

But now she’s pushed her girlfriend away, and has possibly ruined her relationship. All because of a few silly fears she should have just talked to Beca about like a mature adult would.

Chloe doesn’t connect her phone to the speakers like she usually does, doesn’t hum along to whatever song is in her head as she makes breakfast, doesn’t sing in the shower. She gets ready in silence, the weight of her actions crushing her. Will Beca forgive her for ignoring her frantic attempts to explain herself? Chloe won’t blame the brunette if she comes home from her lecture to find her apartment half-empty. (Beca can easily move back into her old dorm with Kimmy Jin; she still has a key, and the Asian girl never got another roommate after she moved into Chloe's apartment off campus.)

She’d so caught up in her panicked thoughts that she’s almost late to her lecture. She leaves her apartment in a hurry, praying that Beca will still be there when she gets back.

* * *

The apartment is dark when Chloe gets back, and she panics for a moment. What if Beca’s actually left? What if she's so upset at the accusations that she's willing to move back in with Kimmy Jin, a girl she _hates_. What if she— Chloe’s fears are soothed as soon as she flicks on the lights, the sight of Beca’s shoes pushed up against the wall greeting her.

She’s never been more thankful for Beca's messy habits than in that moment. A heavy sigh of relief escapes Chloe’s lips as she dumps her bag by the door and slips off her shoes. The silence is slightly worrying though; it appears that she’s alone, which is unusual for Friday evening. Beca’s last lecture finishes early afternoon, and her shift at the radio station finishes at 4pm.

It’s now quarter to five.

Chloe’s expression falls, because _of_ _course_ she shouldn’t have assumed that Beca would want to stay. She can’t fight the tears that prick at the corners of her eyes as she pads further into her small apartment. She’s about to give up hoping Beca’s home when she spots a piece of paper pinned to the banister straight ahead of her.

Frowning curiously, Chloe walks over to it and tears it from the thumbtack.

[ _Chloe Beale, from the first day we met, I knew you were the one for me. We collided in the corridor, and you shot me this angelic smile that rendered me speechless. (I can see you smirking Beale, so stop; it’s only an expression.) I didn’t say anything of course, but god, did I want to. When you asked me out on a date, I was ecstatic. That day changed my life. You’ve changed my life. You tore down my walls in a few short months and suddenly, before I knew what was happening, I was falling in love. (Follow the petals.)_ ]

Chloe eyes drop down to the floor and she sees a trail of petals leading into their living room. She smiles softly as she glances back down at Beca’s note still clutched in her hand, tears slipping down her cheeks. How could she ever think for even a _second_ that Beca was cheating on her?

The lovingly written words make Chloe’s stomach twist, and her chest tightens with guilt. She pushes the negative feelings aside and lets her childlike curiosity take the reins. Tucking the piece of paper into the pocket of her jeans, the redhead turns and follows the trail of petals into the living room.

Another note is lying on the couch, a chocolate chip cookie on a plate next to it. Chloe grins at the sight; she'd told Beca that she loved cookies _months_ ago — it was a casual comment made in bed one day, when they were both slightly tipsy. It's a pleasant surprise to know her girlfriend actually remembered her drunkenly whispered words.

[ _I see you managed to find the second note okay! It‘s not like I‘m trying to hide them anyway; I’m too excited for you to reach the end. Anyway, onto the real reason I’ve been so absent lately. Yes, I‘ve been lying to you — I’ve so sorry — but no, I definitely haven’t been cheating on you. You see, I realised a few months ago that I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to have an actual conversation that didn't involve my stupid notepad and my stupid pen. (I swear I’ve been through about a hundred notepads in the past eighteen months!) So, after much thought, I started seeing a speech therapist. I can imagine your shock now; it’s adorable. (Follow the petals.)_ ]

True to Beca’s prediction, Chloe is beyond shocked.

Beca’s been going to _speech therapy_?! So she can talk to her? Chloe’s heart fills with so much love she’s worried she’s going to combust. She presses a hand to her chest as she fights the urge to burst into tears. (Happy tears, of course.)

Chloe almost trips in her haste to find the next note, her hand shaking as she reaches out to read it. She doesn’t think she’s ever loved Beca more than in this moment.

[ _I’ve been seeing Jackie for six months now. My speech is still limited, but it’s enough to hold simple conversations with people. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. I did it for you, but I also did it for me. It was scary learning to speak again after nine years of silence, but I’m so glad I found the courage to go. I can’t wait to continue going and learn more and more words. I can’t wait to share that excitement with you. I’m terribly sorry for lying to you for so long, but hopefully you’ll be able to forgive me. (Follow the petals for the final surprise.)_ ]

Chloe barely processes the words of the heartfelt letter as she follows the trail of petals, tears still running down her cheeks. She needs to find Beca and kiss her _now_.

She finds the brunette seconds later, standing inside their small kitchen, fiddling nervously with the fabric of her clothes. Chloe stops immediately as she enters the room, her jaw dropping at the sight of Beca in a strappy black dress, her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection. She looks simply _gorgeous_.

“Wow,” Chloe breathes, stepping forwards slowly. Beca stays silent, instead choosing to smile softly and beckon the redhead forwards. Chloe does so willingly, a dazzling smile stretching across her lips. “I read the notes. I can’t believe you’ve been going to speech therapy. It’s, well— I’m sorry I’m just overwhelmed.” Chloe cuts herself off as a small sob escapes her mouth. She presses her fingers to her lips self-consciously, aware that Beca’s staring at her (albeit lovingly).

The small brunette steps forwards, reaching out a hand to cup Chloe’s cheek. She brushes her thumb along the smooth skin, smiling gently as she wipes away the falling tears. “I love you,” she whispers, the words soft and slightly shaky.

As soon as she words leave Beca’s lips, Chloe beams, her eyes lighting up. And then she smiles so wide it _hurts_ , an overwhelming feeling of happiness bubbling up inside her.

Chloe doesn’t hesitate to press her lips against Beca’s, wrapping her arms around the brunette’s neck as she deeps the kiss. She steps impossibly closer, pressing her body against her girlfriend’s. She wants to hold on and never let go.

When their lack of oxygen becomes an issue, they pull apart, cheeks flushed, pupils dilating. “I love you too,” Chloe says, the words tumbling from her lips before Beca has a chance to say anything else. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Becs, you’re—you’re _perfect_. I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.”

Beca starts crying too, her tears silent, glistening in the dim lighting of their kitchen. “You’re m-more than I could ever ask for,” she says, pulling Chloe into a hug. She sniffles as she buries her face in the crook of the redhead’s neck, inhaling the scent of strawberry shampoo. “You are everything to me.”

Chloe just wraps her arms around Beca’s waist and holds her tightly as she cries, tears soaking into her shirt. “You’re ruining your make up,” she mumbles, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

Beca pulls away and grins, her usual dark eyes bright and alive with happiness. “I d-don’t care. Nothing m-matters as long as I have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dude i actually teared up a bit while writing the end. god, they’re so soft. they own my soul.


	87. anaesthesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #87:  
> beca and chloe meet on a paediatric orthopaedic ward and become friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was meant to post this on wednesday but ao3 was being a bitch. _anyways_ , i was inspired to write this because i’m actually staying on a paeds (children’s) ortho (broken bones n shit) ward right now. hopefully all the medical stuff should be accurate because i’ve seen it with my own eyes!
> 
> i don’t think this is how hospitals work in the us (not sure about other countries), but this is an example of an nhs hospital in the uk! (no shade to the nhs, i owe you a lot, but damn are your wards fucking hot.)
> 
> enjoy :)

Chloe’s talking to her mother when the girl is wheeled in, her body limp and her skin pale, almost translucent. The redhead finds herself tuning out the warm voice of her mother as she drags her eyes down to the tiny body drowning in a surgical gown and the bandage wrapped tightly round her left hand. Chloe knows there’s a cannula underneath it — she has one jabbed into her own arm too — and it’s clear from the black cast on the girl’s other arm that she’s just come back from the operating theatre. 

There’s no one with the brunette, no parents, no friends, just the anaesthetist and the nurse pushing the bed. The sight makes Chloe frown; surely she’d have at least  _someone_ with her at the hospital — she can’t imagine how lonely it would be to wake up from an anaesthetic-induced sleep alone.

As Chloe watches the anaesthetist update the nurse on the girl’s condition, she’s reminded why she’s in hospital. (As if the long bright pink cast on her leg isn’t a big enough reminder.)

It’s all Bumble’s fault. Her best friend’s horse — the little  _devil_ — had decided that she wasn’t in the mood to be ridden, and had proceeded to promptly bolt around the riding arena, bucking aggressively. Chloe isn’t a bad rider — she’s never had proper lessons, but she’s learnt the basics on Aubrey’s various steeds over the years — but it was  _impossible_ to stay on the wild mare as she galloped in circles, turning sharply every now and then. Chloe was doing a pretty impressive job of clinging on, probably helped by Aubrey’s (kind of) calming words spoken clearly from the other side of the arena.

But then Bumble just  _stopped_ , and Chloe went flying over her neck, somersaulting in the air before landing directly on her leg. The bone had snapped immediately and broke through the skin, causing Chloe to scream out in pain.

She barely remembers the rest. Aubrey says she’d passed out seconds later, the pain too much for her body to handle, leaving her to frantically dial 911 while trying to simultaneously grab someone to take care of Bumble. It’s safe to say that Aubrey had thrown up multiple times when Chloe was wheeled straight to the ER for surgery.

All Chloe remembers is waking up, dressed in a surgical gown, her body tucked under the clean sheets. Her parents were sat next to her bed, mugs of coffee clutched in their respective hands. Aubrey had pounced on her straight away, yelling at her to “never do anything like that again” before breaking down in tears. Chloe had tried her best to comfort her sobbing friend, but she was still recovering from the anaesthetic, so she ended up passing out instead. 

Chloe’s been in hospital for three days now — the consultant wants to keep her in just a little longer since her break was so serious. She’s just thankful for the morphine flowing through her veins, even if she does have to stay hooked to the IV at all times. It makes her slightly giddy, so she’s been in a constant state of dazed happiness ever since waking up for the second time.

“Chloe, are you even listening to me?” Chloe’s mother pokes her hand gently, her warm brown eyes scanning over her daughter’s glossy blue ones worriedly. The touch pulls Chloe out of the memory, and she snaps her head towards her mother, offering a reassuring smile.

“Yes yes of course,” she assures, unable to keep her gaze from travelling back to where the nurse is attaching the small brunette to an IV similar to her own. Chloe feels something inside her, something drawing her towards the unconscious girl. It’s strange, and nothing like anything she’s ever felt before.

Her mother watches knowingly, a soft smile stretching across her lips as her daughter stares at the pale girl, curiosity scrawled all over her face. She’s spoken to Chloe about girls before, teasing her playfully whenever she mentions any particularly attractive girls in her classes, and she’s definitely seen her daughter’s eyes roam girls’ bodies whenever they’re in public, but this look is  _different_. The older woman exactly pinpoint how, but it just  _is_.

“Why don’t you go over and sit with her?” She suggests, nodding towards the sleeping girl. The nurse just left after rearranging the blankets and checking the dose of morphine, so the brunette is now alone.

Chloe’s eyes widen instinctively at her mother’s words; is her curiosity really  _that_ obvious? She ducks her head as a faint blush spreads across her cheeks, her skin heating up in embarrassment. “I— Um, what?” 

“Chloe, don’t think I didn’t just notice you spacing out for five minutes as you stared at her. Come on, she’s alone, it’ll be nice for her to see a kind face when she wakes up.” Chloe’s mother doesn’t even wait for her daughter’s response before she reaches for the wheelchair tucked next to the bed and wheels it closer. 

Chloe’s still blushing when she lowers herself into the chair with her mother’s help, the thin surgical gown sticking to her back uncomfortably. (It’s  _boiling_ on the ward, even though the windows are opened as far as they go — which isn’t far, considering they’re on the top floor and they have to follow health and safety regulations — so Chloe’s been sitting in a constant state of restlessness for three days. It’s not like she can even go for a walk outside to clear her head. She’s just  _stuck_ here.) 

“There, she should wake up soon. You only took so long to wake up because of the medication they gave you during the surgery. Give it an hour tops, and you can meet your girl.” Chloe’s mother grins as she speaks, shooting her daughter a wink at the end for good measure. She smirks as Chloe immediately flushes bright red and fidgets in the wheelchair. The young redhead’s suddenly nervous behaviour only confirms her (strong) suspicions. 

“ _Mom_! She’s not my girl! I don’t even know her,” Chloe protests indignantly, trying to ignore the excitement that pools in her gut at the idea of the brunette being  _her girl_. It fills her with an unacceptable amount of happiness, even if the morphine is probably (read: definitely) making her already giddy mood worse. 

“But she will be soon, won’t she?” The older woman says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Chloe groans and buries her head in her hands, trying to cool her hot cheeks with her warm palms. (It’s safe to say it doesn’t work.)

“Mom,  _please_.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” Chloe’s mother concedes. “Do you want any food? I can ask your father to bring some up.”

Chloe isn’t very hungry, but she remembers how hungry she’d been after waking up, so she nods quickly. She’s sure the brunette would prefer a homemade meal over the crap the hospital has to offer. (She had one meal and nearly threw up, which is saying something, as Chloe will eat pretty much anything.)

“I’ll be back soon.” Chloe nods and flashes her mother a quick smile before turning back to the sleeping girl, willing her to wake up soon.

* * *

Forty-five mintues later, the brunette stirs. Chloe’s been watching her intently for most of the time, passing the time by simply letting her mind wander. She’s had to suppress the urge to lace her fingers with the girl’s too many times for it to be acceptable, not to mention the fact she’s seemingly unable to tear her eyes from the lips pulled into a gentle pout. 

Her mother returned half an hour ago with some spaghetti, complete with garlic bread and a garden salad. It sits untouched on the table next to Chloe; she plans on offering it to the brunette as soon she’s awake enough to eat. Chloe’s mother had to dash off as soon as she’d delivered the meal, claiming she  _really_ had to do some work. (That isn’t exactly a lie, but she wants to get out of the way so Chloe can talk to the girl she’s so fascinated by. Part of her wants to stay and watch, but she knows her daughter would appreciate the privacy and the chance to get to know the girl without her nosy mother watching her every move, listening to yet every word.)

“Hey,” Chloe whispers as soon as the brunette’s eyes flicker open. Her eyes slam shut straight away, the bright light too harsh for her adjusting eyes. The redhead watches fondly as the girl raises her arm to rub at her eyes, not even wincing as the cannula jabs further into her skin. (Morphine really does work wonders.) 

“Wha— Um... Who—?”

“You’re just waking up from the anaesthetic; the fogginess clears after a few minutes, don’t worry. You just had surgery, y’know, for your arm,” Chloe explains, beaming warmly at the girl as she listens intently, her head cocked adorably to the side like a puppy. “I’m Chloe, by the way.” 

“Um, Chlo, do I— Shit, I meant Chloe. Sorry.” The words tumble from from her lips in a hurried slur, the syllables stringing together to from a barely coherent jumble. Chloe pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as the brunette jerks her head to the side, a faint blush dusting her pale cheeks. God, why does she have to be  _so damn cute_?

“It’s okay, you can call me Chlo. I like it.” The brunette chokes when Chloe winks, her cheeks flushing  _even more_ as she struggles to form an appropriate response. Chloe smirks at the girl’s struggle; she finds the nervous behaviour strangely endearing, and she finds herself desperate to make her blush like that again. 

“Uh, I’m Beca,” the brunette mumbles, staring down at her bandaged hand. She rubs her thumb over the rough material absently, avoiding Chloe’s kind gaze.

“Nice name!” Beca looks to in surprise at the compliment and offers a hesitant smile in response, blushing as Chloe beams back at her.

“Wait... Do I—Do I know you? I mean, you’re like, sat by my bed in a— oh my god what did do to your leg? Dude that cast is  _so long_. Did someone snap it in half or something?”

Chloe finds herself grinning like an idiot as Beca stares wide-eyes at her cast and the IV standing next to the wheelchair. Again, the morphine is making her feel like a fucking feather, and all she wants to do is smile and kiss Beca.  _No Chloe, you can’t have these thoughts. Beca’s probably straight, and she’d totally hate you if she realised what you’re thinking right now. Friends is all you’ll ever be._

With a gentle smile, Chloe wheels herself closer to Beca’s bed and leans forward, the drugs sending a sudden burst of courage through her body. She grabs Beca’s hand and intertwines their fingers and it just feels so  _right_.

Beca tenses instinctively at the sudden contact, but finds herself relaxing as soon as Chloe’s thumb brushes soothingly over her knuckles. She finds herself smiling as she leans back in bed, watching with a strange sense of warmth as Chloe starts talking.

“No, we don’t know each other, but I didn’t see anyone with you as you were wheeled in, and I wanted to be with you when you woke up,” Chloe explains, as though wanting to sit with an unconscious stranger is completely normal. “And well, it’s a long story. Basically I was riding my friend’s horse Bumble, who’s usually pretty sweet but can be a little shit sometimes. So I was just—”

Beca finds herself getting lost in Chloe’s eyes as she talks, the redhead’s words fading into nothing as she stares deeply into those gorgeous baby blues. How the fuck can someone’s be  _that blue?_  

And then her eyes travel — unconsciously, she  _swears_ — down to Chloe’s soft, plump lips. She watches as they move, her pink tongue poking out every so often as she enunciates her words. Beca finds herself completely and utterly  _mesmerised_. All she wants to do is grab Chloe and just— 

_Wait,_ what?! _What the fuck is happening to me?_  

* * *

Beca stares up at the ceiling, unable to sleep as her mind runs away with her. It’s 2am, and the rest of their bay is asleep, even the toddler that had been screaming his head off earlier. She should be tired, knocked out even, but she isn’t. 

She’s awake, she’s hot, and she’s  _bored_.

And of course, Chloe Beale enters her mind. Chloe with her startling blue eyes, her beaming smile, and her soft lips — or so they look — and her even softer hands.

Before Beca knows what she’s doing, she’s pushing the thin sheet off her body and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Making sure her gown is tied securely, Beca wraps her hand around the metal IV stand and pulls the machine towards her. Thank  _god_ for IVs with wheels. 

She pads quietly over to Chloe’s bed, silently willing the IV to stop rattling quite as much as it currently is. Beca draws her bottom lip between her teeth and chews on it furiously as stops, holding her plastered arm to her chest. As the need to see Chloe’s angelic face again overwhelms her, she pushes back the blue curtain and steps into Chloe’s bed space.

Mustering up every fragment of courage she has within her, Beca steps forward and places her hand on Chloe’s arm. All it takes is a small shake and a gentle prod for the redhead to bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide with surprise.

“What the fu— Oh my  _god_ Beca, what are you doing?” Chloe presses her palm to her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart, and releases a long breath. When Beca stays silent, suddenly feeling guilty for disturbing her new friend’s sleep, Chloe squints at her in the darkness. She can just make out Beca’s outline, and there’s enough light to see the guilt and slight panic shining in her dark stormy eyes. 

“I came to, um...”

“Becs? Is something wrong?” Chloe’s wide awake now, concern washing over her as she stares at the brunette. She leans forward and tugs the plastered hand into her own, playing gently with the slender fingers poking out of the cast. Beca relaxes at the soothing touch, and the knot of anxiety in her chest loosens enough for her to admit why she really woke Chloe up.

“I wanted to see you,” she confesses, her voice hushed. The words still slice through the silence, hanging in the air for a second before falling away. Beca flushes immediately, realising how weak and pathetic she sounds. “God, I’m sorry. That was so lame. J-Just forget I woke you up. Please, go back to sleep.” Beca starts retreating, her fingers slipping from Chloe’s loose grip as she hurries to get back to her own bed.

“No, wait.” Beca stops immediately and turns around, nibbling on her bottom lip nervously as she waits for Chloe to start talking again. “You don’t have to apologise for waking me up, it’s okay. Anyways, I’m wide awake now. Let’s go on an adventure!” 

“Dude, we can’t leave the ward. We’re under eighteen, remember?” Beca can’t deny the feeling of excitement that pools in her gut at the prospect of an adventure. (What Chloe meant by that, Beca doesn’t know, but she’s not even sure she cares. She’ll take any chance she can get to spend time with the bubbly redhead.)

“So? We’ll just sneak out!”

Beca laughs softly at the suggestion; it’s simply  _mad_ , but weirdly enough, she isn’t horrified by the idea. Chloe’s sudden excitement is infectious, and she finds the idea of escaping the stuffy ward more appealing every second. The only problem is, leaving is going to be  _hard_. “Chlo, you’re in a fucking  _wheelchair_ , and we’re both hooked to these stupid machines. Not exactly subtle, is it?”

“We can unattach ourselves from the IVs, I saw it on  _Greys Anatomy_ once! I mean, we’ll probably be in pain once the morphine works it’s way out of our systems, but we can just be quick! We’ll go, come back and attach ourselves back up like good girls.” Chloe winks as she finishes talking, and Beca’s mouth immediately goes dry. Her eyes subconsciously drop down to the redhead’s lips, and she pokes her tongue out to wet her own lips, suddenly desperate for a drink.  _A drink of Chloe_ , her mind shoots back at her; she  _definitely_ doesn’t want to picture that — Beca’s pretty sure she’d be forced to take a very cold shower if she did.

And then before she knows what she’s doing, Becs opens her mouth. “Okay, let’s do it.”

* * *

It’s harder to sneak off the ward than they both anticipated, since Chloe’s wheelchair needs pushing and Beca only has one arm. (Well, Chloe could wheel it herself, but Beca  _insists_ on doing it for her like the gentlewoman she is.)

The nurses are all doing paperwork at one end of the ward, and it’s easy enough to walk past them without explanation — the toilets are on the way to the exit. The ward itself is easy to get off; you push a green button and hey presto, the door opens.

The problem is leaving without being questioned, since the only exit is in clear view of the nurses desk.

After arguing quietly in the toilet over who was going to create a distraction, Beca and Chloe put their plan into action. Luck seems to be on their side, because two babies starts screaming at almost exactly the same time, so two nurses rush off to try and soothe them.

Two down, four to go.

Beca approaches the desk nervously, clearing her throat before asking timidly for a jug of water. She then asks another nurse for a snack, which sends them both off in a hurry, eager to please. (They’re only students, naïve students so desperate to do well that they don’t even notice Chloe wheeling herself to the door and the lack of IV attached to Beca.) 

The remaining two nurses are using the computers, their backs to the exit. Beca mutters a quick prayer under her breath as she hurries back down the corridor towards the door, desperately hoping that this works. She pushes the green button quickly and presses herself against the door, sighing in relief as it swings open easily. Beca holds the door open for Chloe to wheel herself through, fighting the urge to tap her foot nervously as she waits.

And then they’re free. 

* * *

“Come sit down Becs,” Chloe says softly, reaching over her shoulder to touch Beca’s hand. The brunette insisted on pushing with her free hand, and is consequently a lot more tired that she’s willing to let on. Chloe isn’t stupid though; she can see right through the girl’s brave facade, and she knows Beca needs to rest for a bit. Especially since she had surgery less than twelve hours ago.

Beca frowns at Chloe’s words, quickly glancing around her to see if there’s some kind of seating she missed. They’re in the middle of a random corridor; of course there are no seats. “There’s nowhere to sit.”

“I meant on my lap, silly.”

Beca’s eyes widen at Chloe’s words, a mixture of excitement and nerves coursing through her veins. Chloe wants her to sit on _her_ lap. On her  _lap_. That’s... intimate. (Beca likes to think it is anyways.) Are they really ready for something like that? They only met yesterday, everything is still so new.

Truthfully, Beca really does need to sit down; her legs are tired, and she can feel her eyes beginning to droop. Her arm hurts, and she’s suddenly desperate for some more morphine to ease the pain. Perhaps it’s time they headed back. She can make it back, right?

Wrong.

Beca sways slightly on her feet, and she grips tightly onto the handle of the wheelchair to regain her balance. Chloe’s lap really does look inviting; her thighs are soft and  _god_ , Beca can’t imagine what it’ll be like to be quite so close to the girl she’s developed a huge crush on.

Despite knowing that accepting Chloe’s offer is a bad idea — it’s only going to pull her further underwater, and shes already drowning — Beca finds herself saying yes. Chloe squeals delightedly and immediately latches onto the brunette’s hand, tugging her round so she’s in front of her. 

Chloe pats her lap silently, aware of the conflict present in Beca’s dark, expressive eyes. She isn’t an idiot; she knows the brunette likes her — her frequent stares aren’t as subtle as she thinks they are. The fact Beca even agreed to this, even if it wasn’t on purpose, is a big step. (Chloe doesn’t know this for sure, but it’s pretty obvious that the brunette isn’t used to much physical contact. The fact no one has come to see her in hospital, not even her parents says a lot.)

Hesitantly, Beca turns around and lowers herself into Chloe’s lap. She can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes her lips as she relaxes, the aching in her legs immediately relieved. Chloe’s thighs are soft, just as she expected, and it’s  _so comfortable_. Beca finds herself leaning back into the redhead’s chest without even thinking around it, shifting carefully until she’s comfortable. 

Chloe smiles as Beca pushes her head into the warm crook of her neck, her nose nuzzling into the skin. Overcome with sudden wave of exhaustion, the brunette draws her legs into her chest, effectively curling up in Chloe’s lap. She brings one hand up to rest against the side of the redhead’s neck, unconsciously rubbing her thumb over the soft skin. Chloe sighs contentedly as she lowers her hands down to the wheels on her chair, mentally picturing the way back to the ward in her head.

Beca falls asleep on the way back, her chest rising and falling as even breaths ghost across Chloe’s neck, tickling the skin pleasantly. Every now and then, the tiny girl shifts, trying to burrow further into Chloe’s body as she mumbles incoherently under her breath.

It’s  _adorable_.


	88. birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #88:  
> beca tries to surprise chloe on her birthday but everything that could go wrong, goes wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for my great friend shannon: happy birthday dude <3

“Aubrey you  _have_ to help me! I have so much to do!” Beca runs a hand roughly through her tangled hair as she paces her apartment, eyeing the birthday decorations strewn across the couch with hatred. The banner is ripped, half the balloons are in pieces — she’s been trying to blow them up for  _hours —_ and the ribbons are all knotted together.

It’s safe to say that the day is  _not_ going well.

And she only has three hours before Chloe gets home from work. Three hours to set everything up. Three hours to make sure this is the best birthday party Chloe’s  _ever_ had. (Beca’s heard all about the fantastic parties the redhead was thrown as a child — her mother is an  _amazing_ baker — Beca knows, she’s tried her cupcakes — and apparently her father would buy her all these amazing presents every thirteen-year-old girl would want. She’s  _terrified_. How is she meant to beat all that?)

 _“Beca, you need to calm down. Freaking out isn’t going to solve anything. What do you have left to do?”_ Aubrey is, of course, the voice of reason in the middle of Beca’s crisis; the brunette doesn’t know what she’d do without the scarily organised blonde. She’s just thankful they resolved everything three years ago, and are now the best of friends. (They have a surprising amount in common.)

Beca paces the length of the living room, wincing as she tugs aggressively at her hair. The sharp pain seems to be the only thing grounding her and preventing her from going completely crazy. “ _Calm down_?! You want me to calm down?! Aubrey I’m going  _mad_ over here! I still have to bake the cake, put all the decorations up  _and_ make sure her present is perfect. I’m  _never_ going to get it all done!”

 _“You haven’t even baked the cake?! Oh my god Beca, what have you been doing?”_ Even Aubrey sounds mildly stressed now, which does absolutely nothing to help Beca’s already frazzled state. The brunette pushes the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she sinks down onto the couch and pulls the shiny silver banner into her hands. She stares at the offending paper, wondering how the hell she’s going to fix the huge tear in between “birth” and “day”. Now it looks like Chloe’s about to give birth and Beca’s celebrating.

Tears prick at the corners of Beca’s eyes as she throws the banner back down, glaring menacingly as it floats to the floor. “I was trying to put the banner up and it ripped! And all the balloons popped.  _Please_ Aubrey, you have to come over,” Beca begs desperately, twisting her hands together as she stares down at the mess of decorations.

 _“Beca I wish I could, but I’m at work. I really can’t just abandon my meeting to come over. Is Stacie free?”_ Beca immediately feels guilty for asking, because she knows how busy Aubrey is  _all the time._ Being the CEO of a business as big as Starbucks doesn’t exactly leave a lot of time for other things. Beca doesn’t even know how the blonde makes time for Stacie, but apparently their relationship is as strong as ever. (The way Beca sees it, the only good thing about Aubrey’s job is the constant flow of free drinks.)

“No, she’s busy. Why am I even doing this? You’re throwing a big party for her in two days anyway. This is pointless.”

 _“No, Beca it isn’t! Today is her_ actual  _birthday — just because we're all busy, it doesn’t mean you can’t do this for her. Look, just— just_ try _, okay? Chloe will still love you if it goes wrong. She would love you if you gave her a plastic bag, for goodness sake. Just do your best,”_ Aubrey says, her voice steady and confident. It makes Beca feel marginally better, but as soon as she glances into the kitchen and sees the ingredients sitting innocently on the counter, the panic comes flooding back.

“I guess. Have fun in your meetings.” Beca hangs up before Aubrey can reply; she doesn’t need any more encouraging words — it’s not like it’s going to help. The only thing she can do now is get a move on and attempt to fix the mess she’s already made.

* * *

Beca growls in frustration as her last balloon pops, the stretchy latex splattering onto the floor. She’s managed to blow up  _one_ successfully.  _One_. It’s tied to the handle of the front door, and it looks  _pathetic_. Beca’s ashamed. How is it possible to fuck up so much? There were  _one hundred_ balloons, and  _one_ decided to behave.

Slamming her hand down onto the coffee table, Beca rises from the couch and stalks into the kitchen, determined to bake a perfect cake. She flips open the cookery book Chloe uses all the time — her food always tastes perfect, so surely it’s a good book — and scans the page.

 _Preheat the oven to 350°F/Gas Mark 4_. Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. Beca uses the oven all the time, so she manages the first step with no trouble at all. (By “using” she means warming take out until Chloe gets home.) Feeling slightly more positive than before, Beca pulls the bag of flour towards her and sets the scales.

_Come on Mitchell, you’ve got this._

* * *

She has  _not_ got this.

The cake is burnt, the decorations are still not up — they’re broken, of course they’re not up — and Beca can’t find one of Chloe’s presents. She got two, because she doesn’t know if she’ll have enough courage to give her one of them: an engagement ring.

They’ve been together for four years now, ever since they left Barden. They live in a small but homely apartment in Brooklyn; Chloe pursued her dream of being a vet, and currently owns her own practice, and Beca’s a hotshot producer at a record company. To say life is good would be an understatement — life is  _great_.

But there’s just one thing missing, and Beca knows exactly what it is. She wants to make Chloe  _hers_ , she wants to promise in front of her friends to love and cherish her gorgeous girlfriend for all eternity. It’s slightly terrifying, because Beca’s had commitment issues her whole life, and she still sometimes freaks out — she’s proud of herself for never actually running — but now she actually wants this. She desperately wants this.

The only thing is, Beca’s a complete wimp when it comes to big life-changing gestures like this, so she made Chloe a mixtape just in case she chickens out. Her fear of rejection sometimes overwhelms her just a bit too much, and she worries she won’t have the courage to actually pop the question. What if Chloe says no? Logically, Beca knows the redhead will say yes. Chloe tells her just how much she loves her every single day in many ways —  _god_ , the sex is good — and Beca doesn’t doubt for a second that the redhead would be thrilled at the prospect of getting married.

But fears are irrational, and sometimes hers get the best of her.

Beca’s determined to try, but only if she can find the goddamn ring. She  _swears_ she put it in the drawer of her nightstand, but now it’s nowhere to be seen. The brunette glances at the clock, her eyes widening when she sees the time. She has twenty minutes until Chloe walks through the door.

Twenty minutes to find the ring.

Beca’s given up on everything else; there’s no point in trying to fix everything now _,_ there simply isn’t time. There’s  _just_ time to order Thai, Chloe’s favourite take out, and  _ooh_ , maybe Mrs Green next door still has some of those delicious homemade lemon muffins Chloe loves.

They’re much better than Beca’s shitty attempt at baking a “rich chocolate sponge”, as the website said. It looks more like a burnt pancake, but hey, what does she know? She’s hopeless when it comes to anything in the kitchen.

Beca rushes round the apartment, phone clutched in one hand, dialling the Thai place, the other hand frantically sifting through her drawers.

 _Come on, come on, come on_.

She orders two servings of Pad Thai and some kebabs, praying to the “Big Guy in the Sky” that it’ll arrive before Chloe gets home. The small brunette throws the phone down onto her bed, wincing as it slips off and crashes to the floor. Fucking  _great_. Now Chloe is going to kill her because the home phone she’d insisted on getting is new, and apparently it was expensive. What a great birthday present —  _hey Chlo, you know that expensive phone you bought? Yeah, I broke it after ordering take out, while trying to find an engagement ring._ Yeah, that would go well.

Tears well up in Beca’s eyes as she stares around their bedroom, wondering where the hell the ring could be. She’d saved for it for months, and it certainly wasn’t cheap. _God, I’m so fucking stupid. I’m such a bad girlfriend, why does Chloe even want to be with me? She’s better off without me. How can I match all her old birthday parties with this shitty night? I fucked up the cake, I can’t find the fucking present and I ruined the fucking decorations. I can’t do anything right._

Beca sinks down on their bed, drawing her legs up to her chest as she begins to cry, thick tears rolling down her panic-flushed cheeks. She buries her head into her knees, her tears soaking through her jeans. _Stupid, stupid, stu—_

“Beca?” _Fuck._ “Oh my god Beca, are you okay? What’s wrong, did something happen? Why are you crying? Sweetie talk to me.” Chloe rushes over to Beca, discarding her coat and handbag along the way. She pulls her crying girlfriend into her arms and stars rubbing her back soothingly, knowing it helps calm the brunette down. Beca jerks her head slightly and leans forward to bury it in Chloe’s soft neck, the skin immediately becoming wet with tears.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whimpers, pulling away abruptly and hanging her head. She stares at her trembling hands as her shoulders shake, sobs wracking through her body. Chloe just hugs Beca more tightly and presses a kiss to her temple, concern filling her eyes.

“For what? Baby you’re scaring me. Please talk to me.” Chloe pulls away and cups Beca’s cheek, brushing her thumb gently over the brunette’s defined cheekbone. The redhead carefully wipes away her girlfriend’s falling tears and presses a soft kiss to her nose, earning a shy smile in return.

Beca clears her throat and glances to the side nervously, trying not to choke on her own words. “Um, well I-I tried to throw you a mini party. Y’know, before the one a-at Aubrey’s, and um, it d-didn’t go very well. I b-burnt the cake and all th-the balloons burst. A-And I can’t find one of you p-presents. I-I’m sorry I’m such a sh-shitty girlfriend.” Beca scoots away from Chloe and buries her head in her hands, desperately avoiding eye contact. “I-I ordered Thai to try and m-make up for it,” she adds, mumbling almost incoherently into her hands.

An awkward silence falls over the room, and Beca wonders briefly if Chloe’s actually left, too disgusted with her failed attempt to do something nice to even look at her. But then she feels soft hands cupping her cheeks, tender thumbs caressing her damp skin. Chloe pulls Beca towards her and presses their lips together, the kiss gentle and chaste. It’s a kiss full of reassurance and promises and  _love_ , and Beca wants to explode.

Chloe pulls away from the kiss and smiles, her eyes shining with tears. “Beca, it’s okay. I’m touched that you even tried. You really didn’t have to do anything! I love you so much, just having you is enough for me,” she assures, smiling warmly at her anxious girlfriend. Beca visibly relaxes at the words, her shoulders sagging with relief.

But then her shoulders tense up again, and she shakes her head insistently. “Your present, I need to find it. I-I  _need_ to give it to you.”

“Bec, wait. Um, don’t freak out but... Well, I think I know what it is.” Chloe chews nervously on her bottom lip as she reaches into her pocket and produces a small velvety black box. Beca can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips, because  _Chloe knows_.

“Oh my  _god_ , do you hate me? Do you—”

Beca’s words die on her tongue as Chloe presses a finger to her lips, effectively hushing her. The redhead reaches out with her other hand and laces their fingers together, squeezing Beca’s hand reassuringly. “Bec, just— just ask me.”

“What? You want me to...?” Beca stares at Chloe, her eyes wide and unblinking.

“Ask me Becs, just do it.”

Beca stares blankly, a small frown on her face, but she reaches out anyway and pulls the box from Chloe’s hand. She slips off the bed and lowers herself down onto one knee, opening the box as she does so. The ring twinkles up at Chloe, the small diamond winking in the light.

“I had a whole speech planned out, I really did. I knew exactly what I was going to say. I spent hours trying to think of the perfect words, trying to think of what you’d want me to say. I could say I’ve learnt it off by heart, or I’ve come up with something better, but I’ve actually just forgotten it, so I’m just going to do my best.” Chloe giggles then, the melodic sound filling the room, and Beca smiles, growing more confident by the second.  _You can do this Mitchell._ “Chloe Beale, you are the life of my life. I remember when we first met, when you barged so unapologetically into my shower, demanding I sing your “lady jam” to you. I knew from that moment that you were the one. I was pissed at the time of course, since I was the punk with the ear monstrosities that had no friends and didn’t care about anything, but then you came into my life and turned my life around.

“You made me actually  _care_  about things. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met the Bellas, I wouldn’t have a family. You gave me that. I don’t know how the hell you managed to tear down my walls in a few months but you did. It was  _terrifying_ at the time, but now it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You tore down my walls and you loved me, and I still have  _no idea_ why, but you do, and that’s all that matters. You made me realise I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You know I have—  _had_ , commitment issues, but I want nothing more than to vow to love and cherish you in sickness and in health. I love you so much, and I hope you’ll do me the honour of becoming my wife. So, Chloe Beale, will you marry me?”

Chloe squeals excitedly and surges forwards, slamming her lips onto Beca’s. She threads her hands through chocolate hair as she slips her tongue into her girlfriend’s mouth, pouring all her love into the kiss. “Yes yes yes,” she mumbles against Beca’s lips, grinning as the brunette’s hands slide down her sides and grip the edge of her blouse.

 _Time to celebrate_.


	89. asexual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #89:  
> beca has a secret to confess to chloe

Beca doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know where to go, or who to go to. She wants Chloe, god, she wants to be wrapped in her warm, safe embrace  _so fucking much_ , but she can’t. Deep down, Beca knows Chloe would understand, but she can’t shake the taunting words echoing round her mind. Chloe would probably hate her if she discovered her secret.

A secret she  _hates_.

Jesse had been Beca’s one hope, one chance at getting it right, and she fucked it all up. Clearly sex had been a bigger thing for him than she’d originally thought. He’d sneered at her, calling her cold, unloving, unfeeling. Beca chokes out another sob as her stomach twists and churns, the pain of his words ripping her heart into shreds.

 _Unlovable_.

That word is the worst. The word that sent her spiralling into a dark pit of self-loathing and hatred. That word had her choking on her own breaths, demanding him to leave and never come back. He’d gone gladly, sneering another litany of cruel words as he slammed the door behind him.

 _Unlovable._  It’s harsh, but Jesse’s right. No one loves her. Not even her parents. Her father had left her like she was nothing.  _Unlovable._ Her mother hadn’t wanted her. She’d tossed her out on the street like a piece of trash.  _Unlovable_. Not even the Bellas loved her. She’d fucked up the set at the ICCA’s, and now they all hated her, even Chloe.  _Unlovable_.

Beca draws her knees to her chest and curls into a ball on her bed, trying to minimise the shaking of her body as sobs wrack through her tiny frame. Her heart pounds painfully in her chest, cracking her rib cage bone by bone.

She can’t  _breathe_.

Thank god Kimmy Jin is out, probably laughing with her friends at her Korean club or whatever it is she goes to most nights. Even Kimmy Jin, a girl she barely knows, hates her. Jesse’s right. Of course he is.

_Unlovable._

Beca parts her lips, gasping for air as she trembles, hands clawing at her bed sheets. She fists her sheet in her hands, trying desperately to cling onto some semblance of reality. It isn’t enough. It feels like the world is slipping away and dragging her down with it. She presses her shaking hands to her chest, willing the unspeakable pain in her heart to cease, if only for a minute.

They all said she was a freak for not wanting sex. They hadn’t listened to her when she’d explained, cheeks stained with tears, that she simply  _didn’t feel it._ They said she was a monster.  _What do you mean you “don’t feel sexual attraction”? Stop lying, freak. Spread your legs like a good girl. I’ll show you what it feels like._

An anguished cry slips past Beca’s lips as she fights away the memories attacking her mercilessly. “Please stop, please stop, please stop,” she mumbles, over and over again as angry faces snarl at her, hands abusing her, assaulting her.

Beca doesn’t hear the sharp knock on her door. Doesn’t hear the worried voice floating through the wood. Doesn’t register the door opening and closing as Chloe rushes in, her eyes wide with frightened concern. Only when soft hands skimm over her wrist does Beca twist her head round in surprise.

“Beca! Breathe, please.” Chloe tugs the brunette’s hand to her own chest as she breathes deeply, encouraging the sobbing woman to copy her. Beca stares, her dark eyes lost and unfocused as she concentrates on Chloe’s beating heart under her palm. It’s calming, like a lighthouse in a storm, guiding her safely back to shore.

Beca doesn’t know how long they sit there. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. An hour. Time doesn’t seem to exist as she struggles to breathe between choking sobs. Chloe rubs soothing circles on her back the whole time, whispering soft words of support as she waits for Beca to speak.

Finally, when Beca’s chest doesn’t feel quite so tight anymore, and her shoulders stop shaking, she looks up to meet Chloe’s anxious gaze. Beca ducks her head immediately, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice broken and hoarse.

“Oh sweetie no, don’t apologise,” Chloe coos, gently massaging the brunette’s shoulders. The tension falls away within seconds; it works every time. “What happened?”

But then Beca tenses, her whole body going rigid as she holds her breath. She looks up at Chloe, tears still slipping down her cheeks as she struggles to find the right words. Chloe isn’t Jesse. Chloe will understand, right? Beca’s head fills with _Chloe Chloe Chloe_ as words slip from her mind, tearing up her throat. “Beca, just take your time. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Beca lets out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Don’t say that.” She shakes her head, almost amused by the ease at which Chloe spoke.

“Why not?”

“Just... Don’t say things like that before you know the whole story," Beca says, a slight edge to her voice. This conversation is edging in the exact direction she really hoped it wouldn't. She knows it's not deliberate; Chloe would never willingly hurt her, but sometimes words said in misunderstanding are the most painful.

“I don’t need to hear it all. I’m not going to leave you, ever.” The pure belief in Chloe's voice almost breaks through Beca's panic. She sounds so  _sure_ , so confident in her own words that Beca, for a second, wonders if Chloe would understand. But then she remembers all the cuddles — which she  _loves_ , but not sexually — and the lingering glances at her lips. No, Chloe definitely wouldn't understand. She'd just think the same thing has the rest of them.  _Unlovable._

Panic flashes through Beca's navy eyes, brewing in the dark depths like a storm. “Chloe,  _stop_.”

“Why?” Chloe's staring at her, bright eyes wide with confusion, and Beca's heart  _breaks_. It kills her that she's never going to be able to give the redhead what she wants. It's no secret that Chloe's a very sexual person; they've all heard her going at it with her ex at some point.

Beca clenches her jaw and stares blankly at her bedroom wall, willing herself not to start crying again. But she has to express her emotion  _somehow_. So she snaps.

“God,  _please._  You’re just the same, aren’t you? Always wanting something you can’t have. Wanting something I can’t give you!” Vulnerability and anger laces her tone within seconds, and she glares sharply at Chloe.

The redhead flinches backwards, surprised at Beca's sudden outburst. “Okay Becs, just calm down. You're going to have to explain to me what you mean because I—”

“You'll hate me, just like Jesse does. He wanted something I couldn't give him and now he  _hates_ me. Do you know what he called me, Chloe? Unlovable. And I am; he's right. I thought he was different and he wasn't, so who's to say you won't react just like he did! He said I was disgusting and  _broken._ Are you going to say that too? Are you?!” Beca's panting by the time she finishes, her voice strained from shouting. “Just... God, just save me the pain and leave now, while you still can,” she finishes brokenly, dissolving into sobs. She draws her legs to her chest and drops her head onto her knees, her tears soaking through the denim of her jeans.

Chloe watches, abject horror scrawled across her face, as Beca starts to shake like a leaf. The redhead doesn't know what to think, what to say, what to do. She's horrified, to put it lightly. Beca's words, the raw pain behind them, make her heart ache. She wants to help, desperately so, but she knows suffocating Beca with a hug — her usual choice of comfort — is definitely not going to help now.

Tentatively, Chloe reaches out and rubs Beca's back, hoping the gentle touch will provide some comfort and reassurance. The redhead whispers a soft litany of soothing words, silently willing the brunette’s pain to fall away.

* * *

Hours later, Beca stirs. She jerks awake, her eyebrows creased into a frown as she tries to forget the pain that comes rushing back to her heart. A quiet whimper escapes her lips as she curls into Chloe’s side, burying her nose in soft red curls.

“Becs? Are you okay?” Chloe tightens her grip around Beca’s waist unconsciously, squeezing the brunette’s (read: her) hoodie loosely in her fist. She twists her head to press a kiss to Beca’s warm forehead as she strokes her fingertips over the threadbare fabric soothingly, subconsciously counting the faint ridges of the smaller girl’s ribs as she runs her hand over them.

“Mmph, I’m fine,” Beca mumbles, whining as she cuddles into Chloe’s body. The warmth radiating off the redhead’s body is safe and inviting and  _nice —_ it’s even enough to quieten the voices raging in Beca’s head as she lies there, desperately hoping their slightly intimate position isn’t giving Chloe the wrong idea.

“How many classes do you have today?”

Chloe threads her hands gently through Beca’s chocolate brown curls as they lie pressed against each other, revelling in the comforting silence that falls over the room. The redhead drags her fingers down to trace the brunette’s jawline, brushing her thumb over the stray freckle dotted on pale skin.

Beca scrunches her nose up in thought, her brow creasing as she tries to recall her schedule. Chloe can’t help the small quirk of her lips as she watches the brunette, overcome with a sudden wave of affection. There are still tear tracks glistening on Beca’s cheeks and her “messy bun” now looks like something akin to a birds nest, but she looks  _beautiful._

“Um, two I think,” she says after a while, raising a hand to her lips to pick absently at the already chapped skin. Chloe raises an eyebrow disapprovingly, coaxing a wide-eyed expression of apology onto Beca’s face. The redhead tries to keep a straight face, but as soon as the brunette juts out her bottom lip innocently, Chloe finds herself melting — she finds it  _impossible_ to chastise Beca these days.

Chloe shoots Beca a soft smile as she carefully untangles their legs and pushes herself up in bed. “Okay sweetie, do you think you’ll be able to manage them?”

Beca nods jerkily, wrapping her arms around her waist as she shuffles back against the headboard. She digs her nails into her hoodie, frowning softly as she realises just how much she can feel her ribs protruding through her skin.

It’s another reminder of just how much she’s failed, how much she’s tried to hide things, how she’s pretended she’s okay, how she’s tried desperately to be  _better._ She’d thought that if she was skinnier, if she was more like the girls on the covers of those magazines Jesse reads, he’d be more accepting of the fact she didn’t want to have sex.

Clearly not.

She’d sacrificed food, her physical health, her  _mental health_ , for  _him._ The supposedly sweet, caring boy who’d turned his back on her the moment she’d confessed her deepest secret, with a complete disregard of how she felt. He’d taken her heart in his hands and crushed it, pushed her off the metaphorical edge the cliff she’d been teetering on for  _years._ He’d finally broken her.

“I’m going to make us some coffee.” Chloe swings her legs over the edge of the bed and heaves herself up, fiddling nervously with the hem of her oversized shirt as she stares at Beca, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. The brunette meets Chloe’s gaze, her ears already turning red under the scrutiny.

“Okay.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, the girls are back on Beca’s bed, sat side by side as they tentatively sip their steaming mugs of coffee, trying to avoid burning their respective tongues. Beca’s staring blankly at the dark liquid — she drinks it black, of course — trying to avoid making eye contact with Chloe. She can feel the redhead’s staring at the side of her face, her eyes full of concern — okay, she can’t actually  _see_ her eyes, but Beca’s seen that look enough to know what it looks like.

“So, uhm, Becs?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna, uh, talk about things? I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready to. But, um, I’m here if you want?” Chloe’s lips twist upwards in an awkward smile, and for once, Beca thinks that perhaps the redhead is more flustered than she is. It’s  _adorable_ , because Chloe is the one who’s always calm and collected, and it’s kind of nice for their roles to be reversed for once.

“I...” Beca trails off and clears her throat, the words forming in a jumble on her tongue. She pauses, the reality of what she’s about to confess crashing down on her. Is she ready to tell the truth? To lose Chloe, the only person she’s ever felt comfortable around? Drumming her fingers anxiously on her thigh, Beca swallows thickly and drops her gaze down to her lap. Chloe’s going to leave after this, it’s inevitable.

_So be it. I have to do this._

“I-I’m not like other people, Chloe. I don’t want to do— I don’t want to have sex like everyone else. And because of that I’m  _broken_. Jesse was right, I’m cold and unfeeling and un-unlovable. I thought that if I looked like those skinny girls in magazines, and if I pretended to be into all that stuff, I would just start wanting sex. I thought— god, I don’t know what I thought. I guess I just assumed I was just  _slow_ , or something stupid and naive like that. I smiled for Jesse and  _kissed him_ , even though I didn’t want to. I thought that if I just  _tried_ , I’d feel it eventually. And then that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to— he w-wanted—” Beca cuts herself off as her throat closes up and she chokes on the words, tears rolling down her cheeks as her small frame wracks with sobs. She wraps her arms tightly around her middle, holding herself together as she stares blankly at her thighs.

Chloe places a hand tentatively on Beca’s arm, stroking her thumb over the brunette’s flannel shirt. Beca flinches at the touch, hugging her arm closer to her chest as she twists her head towards Chloe. She looks briefly into cerulean eyes, tears sliding down her flushed cheeks as her bottom lip quivers. Chloe retracts her hand and raises it to her lips, shoving her nails between her teeth as she lets her gaze flicker nervously around the room.

Beca sighs gently and reaches out to wrap her fingers around Chloe’s wrist, pulling her hand away from her face, lacing their fingers together. Chloe accepts the silent apology with a soft smile, and squeezes the brunette’s hand gently in support.

“I just— I’m  _different_ , okay? I never had sex, hell, I don’t even  _think_ about sex! Sure, I find people attractive, like you — god, you’re  _beautiful_ , but I don’t want to have sex with you. I don’t want to have sex with  _anyone_. I-I love you Chlo, I love you so much. I’m  _in love_ with you, but I-I can’t give you wh-what you want. It’s no secret you’re a sexual person; I know how much you enjoy sex and that’s totally okay. I know n-nothing can ever happen between us because you’ll realise I c-can’t give you the one th-thing you need.

“I know you like me, Chloe, I’ve seen the way you look at me. Those  _looks you_ give me. You look at me like I’m  _everything,_ and you’re my everything too. But just not— not sexually. I’m sorry, Chlo, but I just  _can’t_. I can’t date you and j-just wait for you to wake up one day and r-realise you don’t want to be with me. I can’t do that to you, and I can’t do that to myself. It’s too painful and I-I love you too much.” Beca’s whole body is shaking like a leaf by the time she’s finished, her eyes puffy and her cheeks soaked with tears. Chloe’s squeezing her hand tightly, crushing the bones unconsciously as she listens to the younger girl’s heartbreaking words.

Chloe turns silently and wraps her arms around Beca’s trembling body, enveloping her in her warm embrace. She buries her nose in chocolate brown curls, tears rolling down her own cheeks as she inhales Beca’s lavender shampoo. “I love you so much,” she mumbles, tangling her fingers in a few strands of the brunette’s hair.

Beca relaxes into Chloe’s arms, her problems momentarily slipping away as she focuses on the redhead’s slightly choked breathing. “Please don’t say that,” the brunette begs, her voice breaking as fresh tears well up in her eyes.

Chloe pulls away and lifts her head, bringing her hand up to cup her best friend’s cheek. She brushes her thumb over the light dusting of freckles across Beca’s cheekbone, her expression softening as she stares into stormy blue eyes. “I love you Beca,  _so so much_. Despite what you may think, I don’t need sex. It’s enjoyable and yes, I get pleasure from it, but I don’t  _need_ it. I can take care of myself, you know. Sex is not the most important thing in a relationship. I love you, and I want to be with you. Simply spending time with you is more than enough for me. I am  _not_ going to leave you because you don’t want to have sex with me. I don’t care about that, Beca. I care about  _you_ , and I love you.”

Beca surges forwards and presses a kiss to Chloe’s cheek, her lips meeting damp skin. “I love you so fucking much,” Beca mumbles, pulling back to offer the redhead a suddenly shy smile. Chloe beams, her bright eyes sparkling as she returns the soft kiss to her cheek. She intertwines her fingers with Beca’s and pulls the younger girl towards her, desperate to just  _hold her_.

Everything is going to be okay, she just knows it.


	90. morning kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #90:  
> beca and chloe have a little fun one morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for my wonderful girlfriend, elisa.
> 
> i haven’t felt like writing all week, so sorry this is so short! i didn’t want to force anything though :(

“Beca, Becs, wake up.”

Beca stirs as the familiar voice of her wife tugs her from her dream, her eyebrows creasing into a small frown as she feels a finger jab her ribs. She lets out a small hiss as her eyes flicker open, wincing as she’s met with a light _way_ too bright for the morning. She soon realises it’s the sun filtering in through the small crack in the curtains, illuminating the fine dust floating in the air.

“‘M awake,” Beca mumbles, dragging her hand up to rub her eyes. She turns her head sideways as her mouth stretches into a yawn, the sight of Chloe lying next to her swimming before her eyes. “Hi,” she whispers, her lips quirking into a small smile as she stares at her wife. Chloe’s bright eyes are bleary with sleep, her cheeks flushed, her fiery red hair piled messily on top of her head. 

Beca reaches out and brushes her fingers against Chloe’s cheek, the skin warm beneath her touch. She skims the redhead’s cheekbone, admiring the light dusting of freckles dotted across tanned skin. “Hey,” Chloe replies, her voice still thick with sleep. She clears her throat gently, unconsciously leaning into Beca’s caring touch.

Smiling softly, Chloe shifts closer to her wife, desperate to just be _held_ , and to feel Beca in her arms. Beca waits patiently as Chloe rolls over and wriggles back into her arms, pressing herself back into her front. Beca tries — keyword: _tries_ — to ignore how good it feels to have her nipples pressed into Chloe’s back, she tries to ignore the way Chloe shifts back just a little bit more, and she definitely tries to ignore the way the redhead wraps her fingers round her wrist and tugs her hand further round her waist.

It’s early, and Beca’s pretty sure she’s too tired for sex right now — Chloe had kept her up for _hours_ last night, coaxing orgasms out of her again and again — but that doesn’t mean they can’t have a little fun.

Beca slowly slides her hand down to the hem of Chloe’s top, letting the tips of her fingers brush lightly against the redhead’s stomach. The brunette smirks as she feels Chloe shiver ever so slightly in her arms, her shoulders briefly tensing up at the contact. Chloe loves it when she tickles her stomach. It’s one of her biggest turn ons, and something Beca loves to do just to tease her.

(Often, Beca will pull Chloe in for a kiss before she leaves for work, allowing her hands to roam all over the redhead’s abdomen just to rile her up. And then she’ll pull away, leaving Chloe soaked, only shooting her a flirtatious wink as she closes the door behind her.)

“Beca,” Chloe warns, her voice hushed. Her voice cracks slightly as Beca sneaks her hand up her top, extending her fingers so they brush the underside of her boob. Chloe can’t help the quiet moan that slips past her lips as Beca’s hand continues its journey north and brushes against her nipple.

“Hmm?” Beca leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the base of Chloe’s neck, rubbing light circles on the redhead’s stomach with her fingertips as she does so. Chloe presses her thighs together tightly as the brunette trails her lips higher, gently biting down on the soft skin. Her tongue darts out to flick over the faint mark, her lips quirking into a smile as Chloe moans quietly.

Beca extracts her hand from under Chloe’s top, ignoring the small whine the redhead releases at the loss of contact, and rolls her wife onto her back. The brunette pushes herself up onto her knees and swings a leg over Chloe’s pelvis, deliberately rolling her hips slightly as she shifts to get comfortable.

As Beca states down at Chloe’s flushed cheeks and dilating pupils, her heart swells with love. Chloe is _beautiful_. Her eyes are simply captivating, like a sparkling ocean on a summers day, and Beca wants nothing more than to drown in them. “I love you,” Beca whispers, leaning down to capture Chloe’s lips.

Chloe lifts her arms to Beca’s waist, digging her fingers gently into the skin as she slips her tongue between the brunette’s lips. Beca moans as she trails her lips down to Chloe’s jaw, pressing sloppy kisses against the skin. She tugs the redhead’s earlobe between her teeth, eliciting another hushed moan as she bites down gently.

“Becs, I—” 

“Shh.”

Beca drags her lips down to Chloe’s neck, her hands skimming her wife’s sides as she nips at the warm skin. Chloe’s back arches slightly as Beca’s teeth scrape at her throat and she presses her head back into the pillow, her hips bucking involuntarily as Beca moves down and sinks her teeth into her shoulder.

Chloe squirms under the assault, her panties dampening more by the minute as Beca presses wet, heated kisses to her collarbones. “Oh fuck.”

Beca smirks as she pulls away and looks directly into Chloe’s darkened eyes, sliding her fingers under the hem of the older woman’s shorts to brush against her hipbone. “That’s the aim, yes.”


	91. threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #91  
> based off a flashback episode of _friends_ in which carol and ross have a threesome with susan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, finally! i feel like it's been _ages_ since i last posted. i've had the worst writer's block; it's taken me about a week to write this oneshot. honestly it's painful. i hope this doesn't suck too much!

“Beca, I— Do you wanna, um, take things to the bedroom?”

Beca freezes in Jesse’s arms, her shoulders locking into place. Drawing her brows into a frown, the brunette slides her hand over her boyfriend’s and laces their fingers together. A slow smile spreads across Jesse’s face; this is the first time in two months Beca’s initiated any kind of contact.

But then Beca drags their hands off her thigh and rests them on the couch, untangling her fingers with Jesse’s as she does so. The boy pulls his hand to his chest and sighs, staring down at his slightly sweaty palm, wondering just how naïve he can get. Why did he think Beca would actually want to have sex with him? It’s been  _two months_ since they last spent the night together; Beca won’t even sleep over anymore.

Jesse clears his throat tentatively, glancing sideways to see Beca curled into the side of the couch, staring down at her hands, unblinking. “So um, I was talking to Stacie about, well,  _us_ , and she came up with some— some suggestions.”

“You  _what_? You talked to  _Stacie_ about our  _sex life_?!” Beca rises quickly from the couch, whipping round to stare at Jesse, her stormy eyes narrowing into a sharp glare. A flicker of hurt flashes in Jesse’s eyes, his previously hopeful expression morphing rapidly into a wounded one. Beca rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest, her fingers curling into her hoodie, gripping it tightly in her fists.

“Becs, I’m  _trying_  here. We haven’t had sex in  _two months_. Stacie told me some ways we could, uh, spice it up a bit,” Jesse explains, tripping over his words in an effort to get them out. He stares pleadingly at Beca, his dark eyes wide, begging her to give him another chance.

Beca sighs and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing on the soft flesh as she contemplates Jesse’s offer. She doesn’t want to have sex with him, and she never will. Sure, she  _used_ to like it; or so she thought. Although Beca isn’t attracted to Jesse — the thought of having sex with him makes her want to bury her head in her pillow and cry — she has to admit that he’s a decent guy. He’s kind, caring, and extremely generous; there’s nothing not to like.

Except there is. He’s a guy.

Beca had come to the realisation, just three months into their relationship, that she felt absolutely nothing for Jesse at all. She’d realised that she’d kissed him after the ICCA finals because she felt sorry for him, not because she’d actually  _liked him_. During those three months, Beca had also realised that she was  _extremely_ gay, and harboured a not-so-small crush on her best friend — Chloe Beale.

Of course, Beca hadn’t told anyone of her sudden revelation at the time, and she still hasn’t. She suspects that Aubrey knows, but Aubrey knows  _everything._ Beca has kept her secret quiet, opting to stay quiet and live a lie dating Jesse, rather than come out and confront her feelings for Chloe.

Beca’s barely listening to Jesse as he speaks, instead watching his wet lips open and close as he reels off the various suggestions Stacie had given him. But as soon as the brunette catches the word “threesome”, her face lights up.

“Yes, yes, I  _love_ that idea.”

Jesse looks so pleased at the fact Beca actually agreed to partake in some kind of sexual activity with him that he doesn’t stop to think about why she’s so eager. He doesn’t stop to wonder why Beca had stared blankly during his other suggestions — including but not limited to toys, dirty talk and even role play — but had jumped at the idea of having sex with him  _and a woman._

“Awesome! Do you know anyone who might want to join us?”

Beca freezes at the question, her mind immediately whirring as her brain processes her boyfriend’s words. He’s asking  _her_ to find someone. Beca’s sure there are dozens of girls who would be more than willing to join them — Stacie would probably be the #1 volunteer — but the only person Beca can think of is Chloe.

Can she ask Chloe Beale, her best friend and secret crush, to join her and Jesse in a threesome? Is that even something she’s into? Even the  _thought_ of asking Chloe to do such a thing feels wrong, almost  _dirty_. It’s so far out of her comfort zone, such a huge step for her, that it’s frankly quite terrifying.

The prospect of posing the question to Chloe, standing in front of her and asking (read: stuttering) if she’d like to have sex with her makes Beca’s stomach churn, butterflies swarming around violently, colliding over and over again.

But it has to be worth a try, right?

* * *

“Uh, Chloe? Can I— can I ask you a question?”

Beca hovers hesitantly in Chloe’s doorway, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the hem of her shirt, stroking her thumb over the flannel again and again. Chloe’s sat at her desk, her Russian Lit revision guides splayed open in front of her, the pages a messy patchwork of notes and scribbles. The redhead looks up from her work, dropping her pen onto her notepad with relief. She swivels round in her chair and smiles softly as she sees Beca, tucking her fiery curls behind her ear as she beckons her in.

Beca walks over to Chloe’s bed and sinks down into the mattress, curling her fingers into the comforter as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Chloe quirks her eyebrow at Beca’s nervous behaviour; it’s been a long time since the brunette was this anxious around her.

“Of course Becs, fire away.” The reference makes Beca’s eyes widen, her throat closing up as her fingers still on her shirt. Chloe frowns and pushes herself up from her chair, extending her arms as she pads over to her bed. She wraps an arm around Beca’s shoulders and pulls the tiny brunette into her, pressing their bodies together. Beca relaxes unconsciously into the embrace, allowing the tension to seep from her body as she snuggles into Chloe’s side. “What’s up sweetie? Has Jesse done something?”

Beca sighs quietly and scrunches her nose up as she tries to figure out the best way to ask her question. She knows that logically she doesn’t have a reason to be afraid — Chloe’s likely to say yes, and even if she doesn’t, Beca knows it won’t change their friendship.

“Well, um, as you know, my sex life with Jesse has been... well, lacking,” Beca starts, staring down at her hands as she speaks, praying Chloe doesn’t pick up on the way her voice shakes slightly. Chloe nods silently beside her, fingers curling around Beca’s bicep in support. “He suggested, um, a th-threesome to spice things up a bit.”

“Oh my  _god_ , really?” Chloe pulls away suddenly and turns to Beca, her jaw dropping to the floor as her bright eyes widen. The redhead stands up and begins pacing the width of her bedroom, fingertips tapping against her clothed thigh as she walks. “What did you say?”

Beca’s lip quirks into a smile as she watches Chloe, her eyes sparkling with love as the redhead runs a hand through her tangled curls. She feels a sudden surge of confidence course through her veins, so she clears her throat and rises from the bed to join Chloe. “I said yes.”

“You did? Wow, who would have guessed it? Beca Mitchell experimenting sexually?” Chloe teases, giggling when Beca smacks her playfully on the arm, a feigned scowl pilling her lips downwards.

“Hey, I’m not  _that_ innocent.”

Chloe stays silent for a moment, her ocean eyes meeting Beca’s stormy ones. The brunette squirms slightly under the intense gaze; Chloe’s always been way too good at looking right through her, deep into her soul. Chloe takes a tentative step forward, bringing a hand up to brush against Beca’s cheekbone, smoothing her thumb over the smattering of freckles dotted across the pale skin. Beca’s eyelids flutter closed as she leans into Chloe’s touch, pushing her cheek into the redhead’s palm.

“Who are you going to ask to join you?” Chloe asks slowly, her voice hushed, as if she’s whispering a secret.

“You.” Beca’s words ghost across Chloe’s palm, tickling the sensitive skin as they stand in the middle of the room, their bodies pressed together. Chloe inhales sharply as the words sink in, and she pulls her palm away from Beca’s cheek, dropping her arm down beside her. Beca steps back instinctively, her eyes flying open as a deep pink blush rises to her pale cheeks. “Well, I mean, I—”

Beca’s interrupted when Chloe surges forwards and presses their lips together, her hands wrapping around the brunette’s waist, fingers gripping the soft flannel tightly. Beca melts into the gentle kiss, parting her lips slightly to allow Chloe’s tongue to slip between them, exploring her mouth religiously. A soft moan escapes Beca’s lips, floating through the air as Chloe drags her hands up to the brunette’s neck and tangles her fingers in dark curls.

“I want to, I want to join you,” Chloe breathes, pulling away from the kiss, her breath mingling with Beca’s. The brunette doesn’t reply, just steps closer to the older woman, their knees clashing as they fall down onto the bed. They land with a soft thud, fingers lacing together as Beca sits up to straddle Chloe’s waist, grinding her hips down into the redhead’s pelvis. Beca grins, leaning down to capture Chloe’s lips between her own in a light, teasing kiss.

“We’d better practice then.”

* * *

“So Beca, did you, um, find someone?”

Jesse’s standing helplessly in the middle of the room, his hands hanging lamely by his sides as she stares across at Beca, who’s hovering almost eagerly by the door. Chloe’s due to arrive in just  _two minutes,_ and after last night, Beca’s craving the redhead’s touch like a drug.

The brunette twists her head to look at Jesse, unable to help the sneer of mild irritation that flashes across her face before she neutralises her expression. “Yes,” she says, smirking slightly as she flicks her gaze back towards the door.

“Who?” Jesse asks the question nervously, as though he almost  _knows_  exactly who’s going to turn up at his apartment, ready to leap into bed with him and Beca. He’s scared that if it is  _her_ , then his role in the threesome will be significantly lacking, therefore making it... well, a twosome.

“Chloe.”

Jesse’s heart sinks, and his lips turn downwards into a frown. “Are you kidding me? Really,  Beca? Of course you’d ask Chloe fucking Beale, she’s practically your girlfriend anyways!” The boy begins pacing the length of the room, curling and uncurling his fingers into tight fists every few seconds.

Beca watches Jesse warily, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as he suddenly halts and shoots her a sharp glare, hurt swimming in his eyes. Honestly, Beca thinks he should have seen it coming. Can’t a boy take a hint?

Jesse opens his mouth to speak, his hand outstretched towards Beca desperately, but he’s interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Beca lunges towards the handle just a little too quickly to be deemed innocent, and flings the door open. Jesse watches Chloe sweep into his apartment — clad in a tiny pair of shorts and a thin, lacy crop top — with a disapproving frown pulling at his lips.

“Beca,” Chloe says softly, turning to the tiny brunette with a knowing smile on her face. Beca grins in response, her fingers skimming the redhead’s lower back as she ushers her into the room.

Beca steps backwards, reluctantly pulling her hand from Chloe’s waist and dropping it by her side. “You look great.” The younger woman smirks appreciatively as she lets her gaze roam Chloe’s toned, tanned body. She lingers on the hint of cleavage peeking out from the black crop top, fading into a smooth expanse of skin, only broken by the sharp angles of Chloe’s collarbones.

Chloe steps forward eagerly, her hands latching into Beca’s waist, pressing their bodies together. Her thigh slots between the brunette’s legs as she pushes them back against the kitchen counter, her fingers already toying with the zip on Beca’s jeans. Jesse watches from across the room, his jaw falling to the floor as his girlfriend’s body arches into Chloe’s lustful touch.

As soon as Chloe leans towards Beca, their noses bumping gently as the redhead hastily unzips Beca’s jeans and begins tugging them down her legs, Jesse freezes. The realisation hits him like a tonne of bricks, his dark eyes widening in shock.

Beca’s gay.


	92. types of lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long time no see, amirite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAS BEEN SO FUCKING LONG I CANT EVEN FATHOM IT. my life’s has spiralled downhill, and well, things still aren’t looking up. i guess you can say that i haven’t really felt like writing with all the shit that’s been going on. i’m gonna be real with y’all. after three suicide attempts, i think it’s safe to say i’m not going anywhere yet. the other day i thought whY FUCKING NOT WRITE SOMETHING. and here we are.
> 
> it’s probably as shit as i feel, which is a lot. love that for me :)) anyways, enjoy, i guess.

**i. the snuggler**

Chloe’s cold. Chloe’s cold and she wants cuddles. Now. More specifically, she wants cuddles from Beca. And Beca isn’t next to her in bed like she should be.

The small brunette is halfway across the apartment, humming softly under her breath as she flicks the kettle on and plucks two teabags from the blue ceramic on their kitchen counter. She’d reluctantly rolled out of bed five minutes ago after listening to Chloe whine about craving an apple and pear herbal tea for a _solid hour._

( _“I can’t help my period cravings, Bec, it’s my vagina that wants it!”_ Beca had, quite obviously, cringed at the redhead’s crass explanation, and had promptly slid out of bed, grumbling under her breath about modern-day slavery. But on the bright side, she thinks it was worth the sleepily mumbled _love you_ Chloe had called after her.)

“Becaaaaa, come baaaack,” Chloe whines, burrowing into the soft blankets as she eyes her girlfriend from the warm bed. She’s all warm inside, her cramps soothed away by two tablets and Beca’s religious rubbing of her back — the woman is an absolute _godsend_.

She’d never expected her to be like this, so gentle and willing and _open_. But by god, Chloe’s glad she is.

Moments later, Beca’s by her side, slender fingers curling around her bicep to help her sit up in bed, the touch soft and caring. She hands Chloe a steaming mug of tea before sliding under the duvet next to her, a sigh of relief slipping past her lips as she’s enveloped by warmth and _home_ . Beca won’t fool herself into thing that home isn’t wherever Chloe is — because oh, it _is_ — but she has to admit that it’s in these moments that she feels the most loved, the most cared for. She has, dare she say, grown soft. (And she doesn’t even regret it.)

“Thank you baby.” Chloe sets her pink mug down on the table beside the bed and rolls over into Beca’s awaiting arms, burying her head in the crook of her neck, letting soft lips rest against the brunette’s smooth, pale expanse of skin. The redhead sighs happily as she tangles her legs with Beca’s, her lips flickering up into a small smile as the brunette slides her cold feet up her calf, humming contentedly under her breath. “I love you,” she whispers into Beca’s neck, hot breath ghosting like a feather across the hot skin.

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

Beca used to hate Chloe’s cuddling. She used to find it invasive and annoying and _rude_. But now she can’t say she hates it.)

(And by that, she means she loves it.)

**ii. the affectionate one**

“Bye Chlo, I’ll see you later.” Beca’s on her way out, a little late to work due to morning… well, _activities_ — not that she has any regrets — when Chloe comes barrelling into her, arms open wide, ocean eyes soft.

The brunette wraps her arms around her girlfriend and pulls her close, burying her nose in red curls to inhale vanilla and honey. “I couldn’t let you go without a proper goodbye,” are Chloe’s whispered words into the peaceful quiet of their apartment. She squeezes Beca tightly, unwilling to be without her for a _whole damn day_.

They’re meant to be together, souls and hearts intwined, as they build their lives together from scraps of their past troubles and triumphs. They aren’t meant to be apart, not even for a day.

Beca seems to melt further into her arms, her body completely sagging, the stress of her job falling from her shoulders as Chloe rubs a palm up and down her back, soothing the troubles away. “I love you.”

Chloe smiles fondly, casting her mind back to a time Beca would never have even _dared_ to admit she was in love. Her growth as a person fills the redhead with such overwhelming joy and pride that she wants to scream her love from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “I love you too, baby,” she replies, pressing a tender kiss to Beca’s temple, “so, so much.”

**iii. the keeper**

“Ms Mitchell? There’s a woman here to see you - I told her she needs to make an appointment but she insists you won’t mind her just _barging in_ during your lunch break.” Beca’s assistant is stood at the door, her clipboard tucked safely under her arm as it always is, a frown pulling her brows down.

Beca pushes herself away from her desk and turns to Laura, fighting the small smile that threatens to pull her lips up from their usual unimpressed scowl. “Is this woman called Chloe Beale, by any chance?”

Of course it’s Chloe.

Beca knows exactly why she’s here — to bring her lunch. She’d realised she’d forgotten it when 11AM had rolled around and she’d gone to snag a chocolate bar from her bag (she’s _hungry_ okay?). She _had_ been going to text Chloe and ask her if she wouldn’t mind dropping it in, but it had slipped her mind, as most things do.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Tell her to come through..”

“But Ms Mitchell—”

“Laura, please just tell her to come in,” Beca repeats, sighing heavily as she runs a hand through her tangled hair. The woman hates Chloe, for whatever reason — possibly jealousy — and seems to fall into a mood whenever the redhead makes an appearance at the office.

The mousy woman disappears and moments later, Chloe pokes her head around the door, armed with two brown paper bags from Taco Bell — it’s Beca’s favourite. “Chloe, oh my _god_ , you bought Taco Bell!” Beca springs up from her desk and rushes towards her girlfriend, grabbing a bag from her hand before the other woman can even say hello.

Chloe watches fondly as Beca slumps back into her chair and dives into the bag, rummaging around until she triumphantly pulls out her chicken burrito. “Oh my god, this is _so good_ ,” she mumbles around her food, eyes shining love and adoration.

“I know it’s your favourite, and when I saw you forgot your lunch I just had to surprise you.” Chloe perches on the edge of Beca’s desk, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

Suddenly serious, the brunette puts down her burrito and takes Chloe’s hand in hers, stroking her thumb over her palm unconsciously. “I love you so much,” she says, her voice soft and honest.

It’s taken a long time for Beca to say those words comfortably — it had taken years, in fact. Years of Chloe nurturing and loving her to finally encourage her to whisper those three small words.

And she’s never regretted them.

**iv. the caregiver**

“Chloeeee, come save meeeee,” Beca whines, pushing her nose deeper into her fluffy blanket. She’s had it since she was a baby — don’t laugh — and she’s never been more grateful to have it wrapped around her, protecting her from the cruel cold world outside.

The brunette is curled up in bed, watching the rain slash down harshly against the window panes, brows slightly furrowed as she burrows deeper under the covers, pulling her mangled teddy into her chest . (She gets soft when she’s sick, okay?) Chloe’s in the kitchen — or at least that’s where she said she was going — but Beca _really_ misses her and desperately wants to be wrapped up in her girlfriend’s warm embrace.

“Chlo?” She mumbles, poking her head above the duvet, wincing as bright light hits her eyes and her head throbs in response. Even though Chloe had told her that she had only caught the common cold that was circulating New York, Beca’s convinced that she’s dying. The knives in her throat and drums in her head don’t exactly reassure her that everything is fine.

She wants Chloe. Chloe always makes everything better.

Grumbling sleepily, Beca wriggles slowly towards the edge of the bed, sweat beading on her forehead as she tries to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She can’t move. Now she’s certain she’s dying. _Am I paralysed?_ With one last shuffle, Beca topples over the edge of the bed, pulling the duvet down with her as she rolls onto the floor, tangled in her soft blanket, her teddy still tucked into her chest.

And then—

“Beca? Oh honey, what are you doing?” Chloe rushes towards her, dumping whatever’s in her arms on the nightstand before dropping to her knees and pulling the brunette into her arms. Beca whines and buries her head in the crook of the redhead’s neck, releasing a soft puff of relief as her cold lips come into contact with smooth, warm skin.

“Fink I’m dyin’,” she cries softly, tears welling up in her eyes and rolling thickly down her flushed cheeks. Chloe’s eyes soften impossibly, her diamond orbs twinkling reassuringly as she cradles her girlfriend in her arms and brushes her tangled hair from her damp forehead. She presses a kiss to Beca’s temple and rocks her gently, cooing quietly as Beca sniffles and lets her body slump fully into Chloe’s arms.

“You aren’t dying sweetie, you’re sick. Come on, let’s get you back into bed, hmm?” Chloe scoops Beca up and rises from the floor, glad her twice-weekly trips to the gym are paying off. (When it comes to something other than sex, that is.) She places Beca back onto the mattress and drapes the duvet over her, arranging the heaps of blankets so they’re no longer wrapped suffocatingly around her body. Then, once she’s sure Beca is comfortable — if a little whiny — she crawls into bed beside her, immediately pulling the small woman back into her body.

Beca snuggles into her arms, grateful for the warmth as she rubs her face tiredly, eyelids drooping heavily with sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be kind to me please, it’s been a while <3  
> (also yes, i was going to do five types of lovers instead of four, but i ran out of energy and something is better than nothing, right? reassure me, okay?)

**Author's Note:**

> be kind to me and let me know what you thought? i know they’re only short but...


End file.
